


The Thorn Blooms

by TimeLadyoftheSith



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Human AU, Not your typical cinderella fic, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-02-13 19:02:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 77,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12990492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimeLadyoftheSith/pseuds/TimeLadyoftheSith
Summary: Rose O’Brien’s life has always been odd, but what can the illegitimate child of a well respected Lord expect? her half sister, Reinette, gets invited to the castle for a two month long party in which the crown prince will pick a bride, and she is forced to go as a handmaiden. When a new friend and his mother convince her to attend one of the many masquerade balls, things take a turn she never dreamed.





	1. Prologue

The Kingdom of Powell was at peace. King Peter and Queen Jacqueline had only been coronated for two years, but they were the four most prosperous years the kingdom had experienced since the death of his father. Their union, four years prior to their ascension to the thrones, had been one for celebration. It had been the first wedding in three centuries not done for political gain or to broker peace, and their love for each other seemed to spill out across the kingdom.

At least once a year, usually in the spring, they would tour the kingdom. They traveled with a very small party, as there was no fear of attack, in a simple unmarked carriage. They loved to go out and mingle with the people, let them see that they genuinely cared for their land. There had never been an issue, ever. So nobody expected what was to come, not even the royal diviners had been given forewarning through their cards, dreams, tea leaves, or magickal abilities.

Then again, that was why people hired him for jobs like this. He had requested a very special skill from a beautiful sorceress, one that had made him invaluable to those in need of subtlety and efficiency. Those who could afford it, that is. He had paid quite a substantial amount at fourteen years old, for his intentions to not be detectable through any form of magickc so long as he never killed a child. Normally, his services were rendered in neighboring kingdoms or across the sea to the north. He never left a survivor or a witness. The deaths always looked like accidents, and he was never, ever, discovered. It was how he had ensured his father, with his gambling and drinking problem, perished in a tragic brothel fire. It was how he had earned enough money to buy his father’s beshamed title out of debt and re-establish himself as a prominent Lord. This night, it was how he would assure his wife and year old daughter would never want for a thing.

He was being paid far to much to ask questions, to pretend he didn’t recognize the cold blue eyes behind the face wrap, or the silver gauntlets wrapped in stained muslin. The purse he had been slid contained more than his own vineyard and prize studs produced in five years time. There was a promise of a purse double that size when the job was done. So, he had kissed his wife goodbye, and said he had been called away for a few weeks to visit a breeding farm across the north sea he had visited the year before.

He had gone, visiting the farm he knew of, brokering deals, establishing his alibi. Then he had returned to Powell. He waited until King Peter and Queen Jacqueline’s carriage passed into the forest that separated the palace from the nearest town, and under the cloak of a spring thunderstorm, he moved on the tiny caravan as they slept. He killed each of the twenty guards by suffocating them, using the rain and thunder to mask their death gasps. Then he fell on their tent.

King Peter put up a fight, trying to rip the pillow from his face, but he was too startled to do more than land a few weak punches. Queen Jacqueline was dispatched much easier, with a blow from the hilt if his sword to her temple. Staring at the carnage, he went to work destroying the tent, making it look like an animal attack or brigands. Then he grabbed a lantern. Without a thought, he threw it onto their tangled bodies. The oil splattered, soaking the tent walls and fur pelts. He moved to the opening flap, ready to go burn the guards’ tents. Then, just as thunder cracked immediately outside, he heard it.

At first he thought it was the soft mewl of a kitten, coming from a tiny wooden box very near where the flames were spreading. He stepped again, and the noise grew louder. Turning back, he covered his mouth against the smoke and peered inside. It was no kitten. Inside was an infant, no older than seven or eight months, with a strong cry, golden curls, and honey colored eyes filled with tears.

He felt his heart sink. This hadn’t been part of the deal. He hadn’t even known. Time seemed to freeze, and he knew he had a choice. If he left this child to burn or if he killed her, he would lose his gift. Steeling himself, he grabbed the babe into his arms with her blankets, and dashed into the night.

He left her near his horse, as he finished the clean up of his job, and then wrapped her in his cloak. Her sobbing ceased, as the rocking motion of the smooth canter lulled her to sleep. He didn’t even know her name, but that was fixed when he stopped in the next town to get her some fresh milk and dry blankets. “What a precious little Rosebud she is.” The milk maid had cooed as she held her so he could situate himself in the saddle.

When he had arrived home, to his furious wife and own golden haired daughter, he had said her name was Rose, and that she was his. Her mother was dead. His wife had been livid, demanding she be given to the village widows to raise, but he couldn’t. For the first time in his life, he felt guilt for who he was, and he knew he could never take another job like that again.

He took part in the country wide month of mourning, wearing black and attending the prayers when Rassilon, King Peter’s younger half brother by a year, toured the kingdom. He announced that the king, queen, and their infant daughter Marion, had been murdered by brigands and their bodies burned in the forest. He pretended not to recognize those eyes, and he knew the new King had no idea who he was, as his disguises were always quite thorough.

Still, he never spoke a word of it to anyone. He did his best to help Rose grow up feeling that she was of some worth, and he did love her as his own. He taught her everything he taught his own little blonde child, much to the chagrin of his wife, and he watched the tears roll down her fourteen year old sunkissed cheeks as she stood by the fire alone as he drew his painful last breath. He was terrified, as his vision grew dark, that people would realize she had Queen Jacqueline’s smile and King Peter’s eyes. He only hoped that her reputation as his illegitimate child would be enough to keep her safe.


	2. Royal Request

It was another morning, like hundreds of mornings before and what she imagined would be a hundred more mornings after. Rose O’Brien woke up before dawn. She combed her hair back, washed her hands and face, and made her way to the kitchen. There she would supervise the new cook to make sure the breakfast was being made correctly. Then she would hurry upstairs to Reinette’s room, where she would deliver the breakfast tray, heat the water in the washing basin, and wake her to eat and dress. Finally, depending on her half sister’s plans for the day, she would either be forced into the plain pink handmaiden’s dress or be banished to the gardens or stable to work until dinner. 

This had been her life for as long as she was able to carry a tray and tie up the back of a dress. She hated it, absolutely despised it with every fiber of her being, but Rose knew it was her only viable choice. There weren’t many options for a bastard girl child in the world, as her stepmother, Lady Cassandra, reminded her. Well, not any reputable ones at least. Just after her eighteenth birthday, a pleasure house had offered her a job making quite a hefty sum, but Rose had turned it down. 

Instead, she bided her time. Things hadn’t been so bad when her father was alive, Lord O’brien had always shown her affection when Cassandra wasn’t around. He taught her to hunt, to ride, to drive a carriage, and most importantly her letters and numbers. She had vague memories of being included in things when Reinette and she were much younger, such as dress up and dollies, but Lady Cassandra had put a stop to that as soon as she was able, saying sisters or not, Rose’s matter of birth was not going to be allowed to taint her daughter’s reputation or chances of a fortuitous marriage. It wasn’t long before Reinette had developed a similar disposition.

So, while she bore her father’s surname, Rose knew she had no right to anything his title held. All she knew was that her mother had been a pleasure girl and Lord Martin O’brien had taken Rose from her at eight months old when she died of consumption When Lord O’Brien had died of a spider bite six years ago, Rose found herself quite alone in the world. Still, she did her best to keep her emotions locked away and hidden, as she worked. 

“Thorn.” The cruel nickname that her half sister and step mother had given her made her sigh inwardly. 

“Yes, mi’lady?” She smoothed the sheets to Reinette’s bed into place, as she looked over at her sister. 

“Once you’re finished, you will not scurry off to sulk in the gardens or lark about with that stable boy Mickey.” Reinette dabbed a drop of fragrant oil onto her long and elegant neck. “You are to go bathe and change into one of your town dresses, the pink one” 

Rose bit back a growl. She had been hoping to go see her friend Mickey, as he had said her favorite mare Ladybird was due to foal any day now. The last thing she wanted to do was spend the day watching as Reinette paraded around town like she owned it, while Rose had to fetch and carry back and forth to the carriage. “Of course,” she turned the pillows over and fluffed them. If she was wearing the pink dress, that meant she would only be traveling with Reinette. When Cassandra came along, she insisted Rose was the hideous, eye jarring, bright green dress. 

 

“Make it quick, and wear some under things that aren’t tattered.” Reinette glanced at her in the mirror as she adjusted a curl. “You’ll be trying on some new things. I simply can’t have you looking an embarrassment.” 

Rose tried to keep the confusion on her face, ducking out into the hall, to her quarters to grab the pink dress, and headed down to the servants wash room. She quickly scrubbed herself clean. “What is she playing at?” She sighed, scrubbing her hair. 

“What’s who playing at, Rose.” Mickey’s voice came from the otherside of the sheet that hung as a divider from the male bathing area and the female one. “Your peacock of a sister or you witch of a stepmother.” She heard him pouring a bowl to wash his face and hands in. 

“Reinette. She wanted me to bathe and get my pink dress on.” Rose rinsed her hair quickly, thankful that her stepmother made her keep it short. That meant it took little work to maintain. “We just went to town last Sunday, and she never goes two weekends in a row. She said it makes her seem desperate.”

“Lady Cassandra sent down word that I’m to harness up the open air carriage.” His voice was muffled by the water, and she saw his shadow move as she quickly stepped out of the now cool water to towel off. “Another shoppin’ trip, sounds like.” 

Rose rolled her eyes and quickly dried off her hair. She dragged a comb through it, forcing it straight. “That’s two this month, and it isn’t even her birthday. Did I miss something? Has she finally found a suitor?” She slipped into the nicest underthings she had, and then she pulled her dress up. “Come button me please.” 

“One can only hope.” Mickey stepped around the curtain and gave her a playful tickle before fastening up her dress. “Then maybe you can run away and study art and literature up north.” 

“As if Mother would ever let me make it out of the country.” Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. Her stepmother rarely even let her leave the estate unless she was present. She said it gave the wrong impression of her status. “So nobody knows what’s going on?” 

“Nope.” Mickey smoothed the back of her collar down. “I know a messenger came in last night, after you went to bed. Lady Cassandra refused to let anyone read the message.” 

“Huh.” Rose ran her hands along the faded material of her skirts and checked the waist of the bodice. It couldn’t be too tight but nor could it be too loose. It had to fit in such a way she would not draw attention. “Guess we’ll find out.” 

“Let’s go.” Mickey led her out the back and around the path to the sprawling drive made of slick stones. The carriage was waiting, with Reinette already inside. Rose made to climb up onto the driver’s seat with her friend, as she normally did, but her half sister cleared her throat in a prim manner. 

“What are you doing, Thorn?” She rolled her eyes and gestured to the seat across from her. “You must ride in here, so that your clothes do not get muddy or dusty.” 

Rose tried not to share too long of a look with Mickey. Reinette never, ever permitted anyone but her mother to ride with her. Still, she knew better to question her older sister when her lips were pursed like that. She climbed inside, shutting the short door behind her. “Um, thanks.” She offered, as she tried to relax back into the soft cushions. Mickey signaled the horses into movement.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m taking you to buy some new dresses and letting you ride in here.” Reinette didn’t even look at Rose. She simply began pulling her gloves from the satchel that marched her dress and began sliding them on. 

“I am.” Rose tucked her hair behind her ears and stared out at the passing fields. “But it’s not my place to question you or Mother.” Some part of her was nervous. Any sort of kindness from the two women usually came with some sort of cruel back slap. 

“The Prince has decided to take a wife.” Reinette flashed her a smug smile, as if Rose should have known was she was talking about. “King Rassilon has invited all unmarried notable women of age to stay for two months at the capitol.” She was still confused, unsure of what to say. Yes, technically her father was notable, but Rose was illegitimate. “We are to bring one handmaiden with us. I can’t very well have you go looking like we can’t afford to dress our servants.” She gestured to Rose’s dress.

Rose stared at her sister. Why in the world, out of all the female servants in the estate, would she pick her? “Why not Shareen or even Astrid?” She couldn’t help but ask. Shareen was in charge of Reinette’s social calendar and making sure that she was always in the latest fashions. Astrid was Reinette’s tutor and stewardess. 

“Because.” Reinette flashed her a smile somewhere between smug and wicked. “Mother wants you to go. She said it will be a good lesson, seeing what you can never have. It will remind you that you don’t and will never belong in this family.” 

Rose was practiced enough to keep her features schooled into a smooth mask. “Oh, I see. So Mother isn’t going along?” She did her best to keep her voice unassuming and light. An idea was forming in her mind, one she scarcely even dared to hope for. 

Reinette arched one perfectly styled eyebrow at her and sneered. “Are you stupid? Of course not. If she was, I would have no need for you.” 

Hope blossomed in Rose’s chest. This was it, the first time in her life that she would be far away from Lady Cassandra and everything she had known. The capitol was a bustling city, packed to the brim with people, traders, barters, and sailors. As Mickey drew the horses to a halt outside the dressmaker’s shop, she let Reinette out first. When her best friend extended his hand to her, she could see the same fear and excitement in his coal colored eyes. She could run and run far. 

“If you would please stop making eyes at each other and come along, Thorn.” Reinette’s face was a picture of impatience as she waited for someone to open the shop door. Mickey squeezed her hand and helped her down onto the wooden walkway that wrapped around the shops. 

“Good Morning, Lady Reinette, miss Rose.” Beatrice, the lovely lady who owned the dress shop with her sister and daughter, came out from around the counter. Rose smiled as the lady curtsied to her sister but then placed a friendly kiss to her cheek. “How can I help you?” 

“Rose needs three new dresses, two new sets of undergarments, and one set of plain riding clothes.” Reinette waved over her shoulder as she sought out the tea and biscuits Beatrice always left out. 

Beatrice’s green eyes met Rose’s, and with Reinette distracted, she didn’t even bother to hide her mischievous smile from the seamstress. “Do colors matter, mi’lady?” Beatrice beamed as she took Rose’s hand and tugged her behind the changing screen. 

“No, Beatrice, so long as they are not that abhorrent green Mother forces her to wear.” Reinette sounded like she was thumbing through the sketching pad that Annie, Beatrice’s daught, laid out. “But nothing too flattering either. She is still my handmaid, whether she is traveling to the palace with me or not.” 

“I think I know just the colors.” Beatrice winked at Rose. “Strip down and wait right here, okay?” She disappeared. 

Rose did as instructed, draping her clothes over the chair that was in the corner. She took the time to relax herself and feel her plan gaining traction in her mind. There would be many galas, masquerades, and other parties. It would be so simple for her to slip into the city and barter her way onto a ship or in a trade caravan. Over the last six years she had scrimped and scraped every coin she could muster. Tucked away behind a loose board in her wall, she had a baggy containing twelve brass coins, thirteen silver coins, and two gold coins. 

The average tradeship only charged one silver for passengers, according to Mickey. The rest of her money would be spent trying to find a job. She thought she might travel south, to the kingdom of Boeshane where they care little for the legitimancy or illegitimacy of a child’s birth. There she could easily get a job as a nanny or a paid servant. 

“Here we are then.” Beatrice had returned with a few dresses and some undergarments. She helped Rose into the underthings first. “The capitol is always warm in the spring, so these shouldn’t be as uncomfortable as your winter ones yeah.” 

“They’re perfect.” Rose stretched her legs and did a few experimental bends and crouches. She was to be able to move without too much restraint. She stepped into the first dress, a lovely, cream colored thing with forest green sleeves and trimming along the sleeves. She reached back to try to button it, but found strings instead. “What?” 

“The maids at the castle wear lace up dresses, not as constricting as those corsets your sister and other such ladies wear though.” Beatrice patted her shoulder and showed her where to find the loops to tighten it. She angled Rose towards the long looking glass on the wall. The material and slender skirts of the gown definitely showed she was a handmaid, but it curved to her body, accentuating her waist and chest. 

“Let me see it then.” Reinette called out. Rose shot Beatrice a look that said she was probably about to get yelled at before stepping out. Reinette blinked at her for a moment before frowning. “You’re positive that this is the style servants at the palace wear?” 

“Absolutely, mi’lady. Annie visited her aunt just two months back, and this was the design she brought back.” She gestured at the book. “They are in the book.” 

Rose crossed her fingers behind her back. The dress really was flattering, although simple compared the the luxurious gowns her sister wore. Dressed like this, it would be so easy to slip right past the guards. She would look like a paid servant. 

“Fine.” Reinette gave her another look. “We don’t want people to say we aren’t fashionable.” 

Rose bit back a smile and ducked behind the screen again. There Beatrice helped her try on a pink dress with pale blue trim and a simple red dress with yellow accents. Then she provided Rose with a pair of brown riding trousers and a loose black top. The way the outfits were designed to be laced up left no need for tailoring or adjusting. They were wrapped in tissue paper and handed very carefully to Mickey to pack into the carriage. 

Rose knew it was imperative that she play along, to seem grateful and servile as Reinette ordered her into the next store to purchase a pair of cheap riding boots and a new set of shoes to wear under her dresses. Each item came with a snide reminder that these would be the last clothes she was being purchased for another five years. Rose simply kept her retorts to herself. Within the month she would be gone, on a ship or a trade caravan, heading for distant lands. 

It wasn’t until much later in the evening, after she had packed everything away that she let herself smile. They were leaving in the morning, for the four day journey. She pulled her tiny hidden bag from its hole and let the coins tinkle through her fingers. “Catch.” Mickey’s voice made her look up just in time to snag a smaller bag from the air. “Been saving this since I took my dad’s spot. One bronze coin from each month’s wage for the last three years. Cashed em in this mornin. There’s two gold coins and six silver coins in there.” 

“Mickey. I can’t!” Rose came off the bed and attempted to shove the smaller leather pouch back into his hand. Mickey was her best friend, and while he did actually make wages, she couldn’t take his money. “You work hard for this.” 

“You worker harder for nothing.” Mickey closed her fingers over the bag, and she felt tears prickle her eyes as he smiled. “You take this, and when the opportunity arises you run, just like we always discussed.” 

“Mickey, I really can’t.” Rose shook her head. This was too much to accept, to even contemplate taking. Her friend crossed his arms, his eyes firm and lips twitching in a smile. 

“Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” Before she could stop him, he disappeared into the dark hall. 

Rose closed her door and crossed back to her bed, where her small trunk was still open. She shoved the coin purses far down into the bottom. Then she dug under her pillow. Her fingers closed around the only thing her father had given her, a simple hand knitted blanket with pink ribbon. The white material had faded to a yellowish gray over the years, and the pink ribbon was frayed and torn. He had said her mother had wrapped her in this the night she died, and to never lose it. “I’m sorry, Father. I know I promised to stay here, but I just can’t.” She folded it on top and closed the trunk. With all her wordly possessions packed into tiny wooden chest, she crawled into bed. Tomorrow was the start of the rest of her life,


	3. Arrival and Introductions

The ride to the capitol was pleasant. Reinette traveled inside the carriage, of course, but Rose alternated between sitting on the driver’s bench with Mickey or alongside the carriage on Reinette’s mare, Ladybird. They paused each night in one of the villages as Reinette had refused to sleep in a tent or the carriage house.

Rose didn’t mind their stops. It gave her time to mingle with people, to see the world outside of their own estate and town for the first time since she was ten. It was refreshing to blend in and not have anyone automatically associate her with her family. As for the path through the countryside and forests, it was absolutely beautiful. The world was much larger than she had imagined it, and each village and town grew more larger and prominent the closer they drew to the capitol.

It was well after noon when the tallest spire of the castle became visible on the horizon, and Reinette ordered them to keep going. Mickey only slowed log enough for Rose to pull Ladybird up alongside and leap into the saddle. Then she untied her lead from the ring on the carriage. When they entered the city, people watched them pass, and a few of the children waved at her. She smiled back at them, keeping her posture straight and proud just like her father had taught her.

The guards at the gate to the palace stopped them, checked who they were by the invitation, and let them pass. Rose gasped as they went under the portcullis and entered into a sprawling, perfectly manicured, pathway leading up to the white walls. Even from this distance, she could see the palace doors open, and two men step out. As she rode closer, she saw they were of similar heights and hair color, but that’s where resemblance ended.

One man, in tailored brown trousers with a blue linen shirt, was thin and lean. He held himself with an air of confidence and humility perfectly blended. His hair was combed up into a perfect tousling, like he himself had just finished riding, and his sideburns came down to a clean shaven jaw. The other man was more muscular, with slightly darker hair cut just a bit shorter. He wore grayish pants tucked into boots, a tailored white shirt, and a broad silver band on his head.

Mickey pulled the carriage to a halt, climbed down, and bowed before opening the door. The prince, obviously, stepped forward and held out his hand for Reinette, who took it and exited gracefully. “Your Highness.” Her tone was utter charm, eyes flirtatiously cast down, as she curtsied low.

“You must be the Lady Reinette Poisson O’brien.” The Prince kissed her knuckled and pulled her up to stand. “You are more beautiful than rumor has made told.” Then his blue eyes glanced upwards to Rose as she dismounted and executed a low curtsy, which was odd in riding trousers. “And who might you be, my lovely lady.” He took her hand and kissed her knuckles as well, signaling her to stand.

“Rose, Your Highness, I am Lady Reinette’s handmaiden.” She kept her eyes cast down as she was trained to do. Keeping her voice light and servile.

“Prince Jack, forgive me.” The other man stepped forward, smiling at the Prince in a friendly way. “But, I’m not mistaken when I point out that Lord Martin O’brien did father an illegitimate daughter named Rose.” She felt her heart sink, realizing that this is exactly why her mother had sent her, to be degraded an embarrassed. “Perhaps, this is the same woman.”

“Well, Ladies, will one of you verify James’ observation she is Rose O’Brien?” The prince arched an eyebrow at them.

Rose swallowed and squeezed her lips shut. She wanted to scream that yes, she was a motherless child, but she was still human and still had pride and dignity. Then she saw the other man, James, smirking at her in an unreadable manner. She yearned to reach up and slap it off his face.

“Yes, my Prince, Rose is indeed my half sister.” Reinette’s voice was even, but Rose knew that she was internally contemplating a raging tirade should this news screw up her chances.

“I see, well, then she won’t be serving as your handmaiden.” Prince Jack’s words made Rose glance up and stare at her sister, who looked just as stunned. “See, I’m trying to make things more like Boeshane, where my mother is from. There, legitimacy of one’s birth is not dictated by marriage outside of royal families. So, while Rose is here, she will be a guest.” He gestured to James, who was grinning broadly. “My good friend James here will escort you to the guest suite you’ll be staying at Rose.” He offered his hand to Reinette. “I’ll take the Lady here to hers.”

From the corner of her eye Rose saw Mickey trying hard not to chuckle at the look of contempt Reinette was throwing. For the first time in her life, she was not afraid of being punished for angering her sister. After all, she and her mother had forced Rose to come. “Miss Rose,” James touched her arm lightly, his brown eyes sparkling as he extended his palm. “Shall we.”

“Of course, mi’ Lord.” Rose caught Mickey’s wink as he talked to the stable hands who had come around. She took James’ hand and let him lead her inside.

“The Lady Reinette seemed none too pleased about these arrangements.” He chuckled, looping her arm through his in a friendly manner. Now that she wasn’t distracted by the conversation and shock, she saw he was as handsome as the Prince, but more in a bookish way than a valiant knight. “Also, I’m not a Lord. I’m Prince Jack’s man servant, friend, and closest advisor. However, that is merely because I was the only one his age in the castle growing up. My mother is the royal midwife and a nanny.”

“Oh.” Rose let herself return his broad grin. Things here were different, it seemed. James wasn’t of noble birth or title, but the servants in the palace seemed to give him the respect of one. “So, this doesn’t mean I have to take part in the things the other women are doing.”

“Oh, only if the Prince invites you. See, he wants to change the laws regarding people like you, but he can’t until he’s king. He can’t be king til he marries.” James turned her down a hall to the right. “So, no, you won’t be one of his potential brides, but he’ll more than likely extend a friendship to you.” He paused outside of a door. “As mentioned, I’m James Smith. This will be your room.”

“Thank you, James.” Rose felt like she was caught in a whirlwind. In literally a matter of breaths she had gone from being nothing to being treated well by the prince. She placed her hand on the knob and made to turn it.

“Wait.” James eyes glanced over her riding with a look of scrutiny. “I’m assuming you only brought attire suitable for a handmaiden.” His voice wasn’t condescending, but held a sort of irritation at the situation. “Those should be fine for now, but I’ll see about getting you something more appropriate for a guest.”

“I don’t want to be a bother.” Rose forced herself to meet his eyes. It was as if the prince and this man were trying to thwart her plans to escape. She knew they weren’t but still. “My new dresses are just fine. In fact, I should probably go change out of these traveling clothes now.”

“I understand your hesitance, Rose, but at least consider the offer.” He held up a hand as she opened her mouth to reply. “As for now, the entire castle is open to you, barring the royal north residential wing without an invitation from the Prince or the King.”

Rose made to open the door again, but she turned. “Are there going to be many women here, to see the Prince?” She hoped so, that way Reinette could know what it was like to not be the center of the world.

“There were only ten invited, five of whom know the Prince already.” As if catching on to her line of thinking he flashed her a toothy smile. “While your sister is stunning, so are the others.” He gestured broadly as a servant came hurrying with her tiny trunk. “Go and change. I’ll wait out here to give you the tour.”

Rose followed the servant inside and gasped. Her room was double the size of Reinette’s at home. The bed was marvelous, large enough for at least three people, covered in plush looking blankets and pillows in a rich blue and silver. Fresh flowers were in vases around the room, and the heavy curtains were tied back from the windows. The warm spring air billowed into the room, stirring the opaque silk that was still loose. She did take a peek through the two doors on the other side of the room. The one on the right led to a closet and the one on the left led to a sprawling boudoir complete with a stone basin for bathing, that looked like it had pipes that fed the water inside.

Rose grabbed the pink dress and quickly donned it. She tightened the laces easily, taking the time to check her reflection. The dress was just as flattering as before, and she eyed the bottles of fragrant oils on a table near the bed. She sniffed one, finding it a woodsy but also smelling like the vanilla oils her mother sometimes traded wine for. She dabbed some behind her ear and hurried back out to the hall.

James was seated on the floor, one leg up and supporting a book. The other leg was stretched out lazily. A pair of spectacles were perched on his nose, as he absentmindedly ran one hand through his hair. Rose was again struck by how stunning he was. On his feet he had been a coiled spring, ready to run, and jabbering away. Like this, she was reminded of a cat basking in the sun, graceful and languid without doing more than breathing. She had never before admired a man that way, although it had been assumed by everyone that she and Mickey were going to end up together. “What are you reading?” Those warm eyes found hers, and the smile that graced his lips made her grin reflexively.

“A book on astronomy, and how it does actually have an impact on our seasons and even the different types of harvests that will grow.” He snapped the book shut, before scrambling to his feet. He opened the door to his right, set it inside, and closed it quietly. “Mine and my mother’s suite.” He explained as she opened her mouth to ask.

“So, you said something about a tour.” Rose tucked her hair behind her ear, eager to get a basic layout of the palace. It would be easier to sneak out if she knew exactly where she was going. She held at her arm, and he took it in true gentlemanly escort fashion.

“So I did. Would you like to see the castle itself, or perhaps the gardens and stables?” James led her back into the hall, and she could tell he was working to keep his long stride in step with hers. “There’s also a substantial library, my favorite part besides the kitchens.” That smile was back, sort of a combination of flirtatious and rogue. “We have about three or four hours before dinner.”

“Um.” Rose was at a loss. She really wanted to see the layout of the palace itself, but she also needed to know how to get to the gardens so she could sneak out of the grounds. “You pick. You're the expert.”

“Well, I can almost guarantee that your sister will be in the gardens.” He rolled his eyes in a playful manner. “Prince Jack took the first two ladies there when they first arrived.”

“Oh, who else has shown up?” She was curious what notable women her snobbish sister would be competing against.

“My cousin Donna Noble, and Lady Amelia Pond.” James turned them down a hall, pausing to point out a door massive door. “Throne room and coincidentally the ballroom for the first dance once all the ladies have arrived.” He paused only long enough to breathe. “Donna and Amy have been to the castle many times before. Donna, to visit my mother and because her father was an ambassador for King Rassilon, and Amy because her mother and Jack’s mother grew up together in Boeshane before marrying into our land.”

Rose nodded, not really paying much mind as she memorized each way they went. So far he had shown her the way to the infirmary area, the main dining hall, the kitchens, and he rambled on about who was coming and what would be going on. She plastered on her best smile, giving half conscious affirmations as she mentally recalled the distance of each room to the main entrance and side kitchen exit. She vaguely realized he had asked her if something was a good idea. “Yeah, that sounds wonderful.” She squeezed his arm in a friendly manner and turned her gaze up.

“Brilliant, my mother will be so delighted to meet you.” He reached out with a finger to playfully tap her chin. “She’s always wanted a daughter, and once you are my wife she will.”

James’ words made her stumble to a stop, and she couldn’t bite back her shocked exclamation. “Your wife?! What?” Her heart rate jacked up as he flinched back a bit, looking suddenly hurt. “Oh no! No! I barely know you. Why in the world would I marry you?” She jerked away from him, backing a few steps to create a gap between them.

His seriously wounded face held for a set of heartbeats before he burst into a roar of laughter. “Always, always pay attention to conversations here in the capitol, Rose.” He wiped the tears of amusement from his eyes with his palm. “Your face, my gods, your face!” He shook his head, still chuckling as she felt relief wash through her, followed by burning embarrassment. “Now, if you’re quite done calculating the best route out of the castle to run away, I can actually show you the best way to escape undetected.”

Rose stared at him, feeling her cheeks flaming still from her faux pax. “I’m not plotting an escape or running away.” She was an adept liar. Not even Mickey was able to tell when she was hiding something. “I was just thinking about what it would be like to work at the palace versus the estate is all.”

“So, there’s a reason Jack keeps me around, and if I’m going to be your escort for the majority of this visit, it’s only fair I should warn you.” He stepped past her to open a door and waived her inside. “Because, out of all the people in this Castle, Rose, I’m the only one you can’t ever lie to.”

Rose’s curiosity was piqued, and she stepped inside the room. It was dark, but there was a snap of fingers and a torch blazed to life, then another, and another. With a startled gasp, she realized they were in some part of the library, far away from the windows and main area. Bookshelves towered around her. Then, her mind made the connection, as James was standing there with one hand up like he was about to snap again. The only difference was, a small flame danced between his fingers. “Magick?! You’re magick?!”

“Yep.” He popped the p with a wink and blew the flame away. “Like my mother, of course. From my father, may the stars rest his soul, I inherited telepathy.” He wiggled his fingers at her. “I have to touch bare skin to do it though. You were broadcasting so loudly, I was able to pick it up when my thumb grazed your wrist.” He drew a breath, his eyes softening as they darted between hers. “I apologize, it was an accident. I normally have barriers in place, but you really do broadcast your thoughts quite powerfully. I wasn’t expecting it.”

Rose swallowed hard and quickly tugged her sleeves down. Anger flitted into her chest. This man, this stranger, had gone into the one place that was hers and hers alone. She turned away from him. “Go away. I can find my own way back.” She squared her shoulders, jerking away as he touched her sleeve. “I said go away, and don’t come near me again.”

“As you request, my lady.” She could hear him execute a bow. “I won’t tell anyone of your plan. I understand why you want to run.” She heard the door open. “Feel free to borrow any books you wish, as this library is open to all castle inhabitants and guests.” The door closed

Rose chanced a look over her shoulder, and found the alcove they were in empty. “I’m not a lady.” She spat into the silence, stepping out into the rows that led to the main atrium of the massive room. It had to be ten times the one at the estate, with shelves that spanned to the ceiling. There were some people loitering about, mostly servants or what had to be their young teen children. None of them paid her notice as she walked the lines of shelves.

Soon, she found herself in the section that must have been fiction. Fiction and fantasy had been her favorite when she was a child, before her mother had banned her from any reading materials outside of what was necessary to perform her duties. Her fingers found a book of short stories, almost identical to the one her father had given her for her thirteenth birthday. She had never finished it. Rose pulled the hulking volume from it’s spot and opened it up. It was the same collection, only far more intricately lettered and illustrated.

Her anger forgotten, she hurried back to the alcove, out the door. She made her way back to her room, running into a woman about her age wearing a nearly identical dress coming out of her guest room. “Hello, are you Rose O’brien?” Her eyes darted down at Rose’s book and dress

“Yes, and who are you?” Rose tried not to sound rude, but she didn’t like when people called her by her surname.

“Gwen. I’m to be your sister’s handmaid while she is here.” The look on her face said that she had already gotten to know Reinette. “I was told to tell you dinner will be ready soon, in the main dining hall, mi’lady.” She executed a quick curtsy.

“Please don’t do that.” Rose sighed and shook her head. “I’m not a lady. I’m usually Reinette’s handmaiden.”

“I know.” Gwen gave her a nervous look. “Mr. Smith told me when he asked me to fetch you for dinner, but he also said that the Prince decreed you’re to be given the same courtesies as any titled visitor.”

“Mr. Smith huh?” Rose rolled her eyes and sighed. “Well, you can just call me Rose. No courtesies needed, Gwen.”

“Yes, of course.” Gwen’s nervous look faded a bit. “If I may say, you are a spot nicer than your sister.”

Rose giggled and patted Gwen’s arm. “A hornet is a spot nicer than my mum and sister, Gwen. Thanks for finding me. Let them know I’ll be right down.”

She watched as the woman hurried away before stepping into her room. In the growing sunset, a few oil lamps had been lit, along with candles in the sconces on the walls. Her dresses had been unpacked, and the trunk sat empty and open in the corner. Rose felt her heart drop. She rushed over, tossing her book aside and stared into the trunk. It was empty except for a folded paper. The paper had a three number combination with the word ‘headboard’.

Dashing to the bed, she found it was carved with vines and orchid flowers. One of the orchids moved, and behind it was a small dial. She turned the combination and found her purses. “Please, please.” She opened them, and sighed out loud as the coins were all still there. She quickly hid them back, and memorized the combination before tossing the paper in the small fire burning in the hearth.

She noted the closet was slightly ajar, and she opened it to find her clothes hung up along with two dresses. They weren’t extravagant gowns like a noblewoman’s, but they were pretty and more akin to what a successful merchant or scholar’s wife might wear. Rose almost refused to wear them, but the thought of rubbing it in Reinette’s face was too tempting. She picked out a black and red one, quickly stepped into it, and reached back to get the laces done.

When she looked into the mirror on the wall she gasped. The black bodice clung to her curves, far more fitted than any dress she had ever owned, pushing her breasts up pleasantly, and the sleeves bubbled up into cute cap sleeves just. The skirt was loose and flowing, from her hips down, the red material pooling just barely to the floor. A belt hid the seam where the materials joined, decorated in simple black and red glass beading. She quickly combed her hair, admiring the way the beads sparkled in the firelight. As she set her comb down, she eyes fell on a white wrapped package she had missed on her bed.

“What?” She moved towards it, picking up the folded blue parchment that was on top. She opened it up to find elegant looping script.

_Rose,_

_I honestly did not mean to cause offense this afternoon with my poor judgement. I humbly offer my apologies, as well as my knowledge of the castle for you plans. Please take this gift, as an offering of peace and friendship, knowing that they will prevent another violation of your mental sanctum._

_Sincerely,_  
Sir James Smith  
First Man of the Prince

Rose felt her anger rising again at the incident that had occurred. She did not want to forgive him, but he had been nicer to her than many others had in her life. She set the note aside and opened the neatly folded tissue paper. Inside was two sets of gloves, one in black and one in white. They were long enough to reacher her elbows and made of soft flexible material. “Okay, James.” She picked up the black ones and made up her mind. He was her ticket out of here. “I accept your apology.” She slipped the gloves on and quickly stepped into the hallway to make her way to dinner. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s Dress](http://www.sofiehouse.co/media/catalog/product/cache/1/small_image/240x320/9df78eab33525d08d6e5fb8d27136e95/A/-/A-Line-Cap-Sleeve-Long-Black-And-Coral-Chiffon-Evening-Prom-Dress-Beaded-Belt.jpg)


	4. Dinner and Agreements

James chewed on his contrition as he stood behind his dining chair. He honestly hadn’t meant to offend Rose, but he still had. “You look just like that time I convinced you to eat an entire bowl of sugar in less than a minute, James.” Donna’s voice echoed into the room, and he looked up to see her standing with Lady Amelia. They were both staring at him with looks between amusement and concern. “Somewhere between ready to explode and ready to regurgitate.”

“Quite right.” Amy tilted her head with a smile. “Hear something you weren’t supposed to, James?” Oh, Amy, always able to see right through anyone’s facade without telepathy.

“Something like that.” He came around the table to bow to them, rendering the appropriate courtesies despite being childhood friends. “You both look absolutely stunning, as always.” He led them to their seats and helped them both to sit. “Lady Reinette and her sister Rose will be joining us for dinner.”

“We know.” Donna winked conspiratorially at him. “I haven’t seen Reinette since mother insisted she come to my sixteenth birthday, but I recognized her out strolling in the gardens.”

“We didn’t see her sister though.” Amy shrugged, pouring herself a glass of wine. “But we did hear Jack pawned you off on her so he could get some alone time.”

“He didn’t pawn me off.” James snagged a grape and tossed it in her direction. She plucked it from the air with ease and popped it between her lips. “I’m the one who pointed out who she was. Of course he was going to ask me to escort her around.” He thought about her plan, how even walking with just him had her feeling like a coiled spring. He had a suspicion that the polite words between her and Reinette were an act. James had spent enough time traveling with Jack to know an abused servant when he saw one. He had bungled it all up by admitting he read her mind. Granted, he could have revealed it in a more polite and constructed manner. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks and he sighed, remembering the pain, fear, and anger in her eyes

“Lady Amelia, I do believe our dear James is blushing.” Donna’s voice made him shake his head. “I did hear one of the library boys saying she was quite pretty.” His cousin smirked at him teasingly.

“Now, Lady Donna, are you suggesting that a woman exists that can make James the Lord of Mischief blush.” Amelia gave a feigned gasp and covered her mouth. Rose was very pretty, he had to admit that, especially when she smiled. He fought to keep the blush from deepening by pouring himself a glass of wine. “If he turns any more red, Donna, he’ll be the same color as your necklace.” He spun around to retort cooly, raising his glass to his lips, but what he saw made him freeze.

Rose had entered the room, wearing a dress he recognized from his mother’s closet, the one she had worn last year to Jack’s birthday party. Where it had made his mother look pretty and charming, it made Rose look absolutely stunning and demure all at once. To his pleasant surprise, she was wearing one of the pairs of gloves he had rushed into town to purchase. “Rose.” He sat his goblet down and hurried over to take her gloved fingers and raise them to his lips. “Please, come and let me introduce you.” He noted in a pleased manner that his brush of lips to her covered hands brought a faint pink to her cheeks.

“Thank you, Sir James.” Rose’s eyes flitted nervously to wear Amelia and Donna had stood to smile at her.

James led her over to the table. “Rose, allow me to introduce my cousin, Lady Donna Noble, and our mutual friend from childhood, Lady Amelia Pond.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” Rose released his hand to execute a prim curtsy. “My Ladies.”

“Oh, no titulars please.” Donna grinned and gestured to the chair across from here, next to the one James usually occupied. “At least not until the rest of the potential brides show up.” James let out a silent breath of relief as Rose smiled and slid into the chair he pulled out for her

“We all grew up together.” Amelia explained with a chuckle. “So long as King Rassilon isn’t here, Jack isn’t one for formalities.”

James saw that Rose still looked uncertain, so he interjected. “Wine?” He lifted the pitcher towards the goblet.

“Um, yes, thanks.” Her voice told him she was not used to being served. He filled the goblet before taking his seat. “Speaking of his highness, has anyone seen him?”

“Probably having a private dinner with Reinette, like he did with each of us.” Amy rolled her eyes. “Like he needed to do that for Donna or I.”

It didn’t escape his notice that Rose instantly relaxed as soon as the possibility of not seeing her sister had arisen. The look Donna flashed him said she didn’t miss it either “Amelia is right.” The voice that spoke from the door now made him break into a smile. His mother, Sarah Jane, was in the doorway, wearing her own dinner dress.

“Always am.” Amy flashed the woman who had been like a second mother to her a smile. “Good evening Sarah Jane.”

“Good evening Aunt Sarah.” Donna chimed in with a happy grin. “Please join us.”

“Mother.” James stood to pull out the chair on the other side of him. “Please, sit here, and allow me to introduce Rose O’Brien. I’m sure you’re responsible for the dress she’s wearing.” He felt Rose stand with him, and saw her blush and smile from the corner of his eyes.

“That would be correct. Gwenyth told me she only had servant dre- oh my stars.” His mother froze in her movements, her eyes wide as her mouth dropped open in shock. She was staring at Rose like a she was a ghost. The color had totally drained from her face.

“Mother, are you alright?” Panic welled in his chest as he grabbed her by her arm. Her normally warm eyes were so wide the pupils nearly obscured the irises.

“I’m fine. Sorry, it’s just Rose looks like.” She drew a ragged breath, her fingers clutching James’ bare hand. “Someone I knew as a child.” The words left her mouth, but her thoughts were a torrent. _I need to see her left shoulder blade_.

James was confused, but he gave a subtle nod in understanding. He would find a way to either see it himself or get his mother to. “Please, mother, sit and have some wine.” He helped her into the chair and offered the ladies a comforting smile. “I’ll go and see what is keeping dinner.” He poured his mother a goblet and stepped around the chair, as he passed by Rose, he let his eyes trail along her bare shoulders. Just visible at the edge of the material of her dress was a brown splotch. His confusion was intensified as he stepped out to the kitchen area. “Everything okay in here?”

“Coming out now, James.” Lana, the head cook assured him as the waiters piled the trays together.

He flashed her a grin and a nod before heading out into the dining hall again. Glancing down at Rose’s back again, he saw the splotch, noting from this angle that it looked very much like a wolf’s or dog’s paw print. He slid into his chair. “Dinner will be here shortly.”

The Ladies had been in conversation, trying to coax Rose into discussing her trip up. James took their distraction as a cover and touched his mother’s hand. When her eyes met his, he arched a brow. _Is it in the shape of a paw print_? He nodded once. _I will explain later, but do not let her out of your sight. She must be protected_. The urgency in her thoughts kept him from pressing the matter. He had already intended on keeping Rose close, if only to help her escape whatever she had left behind back at the O’Brien estate.

James turned his attention to his dinner as it arrived, relaxing and trying not to focus on what his mother had told him. The wine flowed freely, making them all laugh and unwind. He bantered easily with his cousin and friend, not minding a bit when they threw out embarrassing stories in an effort to get Rose to laugh. “Look, Donna, you’re the one who said that spell would make me grow wings.” He refilled his goblet, after pushing away the strawberries he had for dessert. “You didn’t specify they would be mosquito wings.”

“Wait, you didn’t think to check before you jumped off the stable roof?” Rose gave an adorable scoffing snort as she sipped her fourth glass of wine. Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were dancing merrily at them all.

“I was seven!” He puffed up defensively, crossing his arms. “Besides, the broken arm was worth the two gold coins Jack had to pay me for doing it!” That made Rose giggle and shake her head at him. He was so caught up in the story, that he barely missed his mother’s sharp intake if breath as Rose fanned her face to hide the laughter.

“I still can’t believe you fell for it though.” Donna brushed her fiery hair back from her eyes. She turned her attention to Rose. “Speaking of the stables, we were talking of going riding tomorrow, since the other ladies are expected to arrive and the castle will be in an uproar. Would you like to come, Rose?”

Rose looked properly surprised at being included, but James was not. Donna was only titled because his Aunt Sylvia had married into the Noble family. The rest of his relatives were scholars like his grandfather or healers and midwives like his mother. “I don’t have a mare. I rode Reinette’s here.” She shook her head, finishing her glass.

“You could ride mine, Rose dear.” His mother cut it. “She’s a sweet thing, but does love a good run.”

“James will be escorting us, as well as my guard Rory.” Amelia’s face instantly lit up at the mention of his name. Everybody knew the two were infatuated with each other, but her father had insisted she come to the two month long courting ceremony just in case. Should Jack fail to choose her, which everyone present knew he wouldn’t, she would be permitted to marry Rory when he was knighted in the summer.

“Well, I was planning on reading, but since you insist. I’ll come.” James felt his heart skip just a bit as Rose’s smile changed from polite to one of happiness. Her tongue curled just to her teeth, and he wondered if it was not the most endearing smile he had ever seen.

“Well, that settles it then.” Donna clapped her hands and stood, being the oldest titled person in the room, everyone followed suite. “After breakfast, we’ll ride down to the beach.”

“The ocean?” Rose’s eyes went wide with giddiness, and James couldn’t help himself from squeezing her gloved hand.

“Yes, Rose, the ocean.” She squeezed back, gazing up at him through her lashes with a genuine look of contentment. He cleared hid throat as he turned to the others. “Do either of you ladies mind if I escort Rose back to her chambers? I know we normally walk together.”

“The castle can be very confusing after dark.” Donna gave Amelia a knowing elbow nudge. “But we know the way.” They both disappeared in a swish of skirts and giggles.

“I’ll check on the staff before coming to our quarters, James.” His mother smiled and kissed his cheek before whispering in hhis ear. “Keep her birthmark covered at all costs.” She pulled back, speaking normally. “It can be a bit drafty though.” She also disappeared to the door leading to the kitchen.

“Where are my manners.” James caught on quickly and shed his dinner coat. “Here, Rose.”

She took it and draped it over her shoulders and pulling it tight. “Thank you.” Now that they were alone, he realized they were still standing beside their chairs. “And thank you for these.” She held up her gloved hands.

“I thought that perhaps if you knew I didn’t do it on purpose, you wouldn’t be so cross.” He offered his arm to her, and she took it easily. “It was a mistake.”

“It’s forgiven, honestly.” Rose waved it off and offered him a half smile as they went into the dimly lit and empty hall. “I don’t want to intrude tomorrow.”

“You were invited.” James shook his head. Honestly, was the woman so unused to receiving kindness. “Are you really trying to say you’d rather stay here an plot your escape?” He leaned down to whisper.

“No.” She turned her head from him with a sigh, and he gave her arm a teasing squeeze. “Maybe, yes.”

“I did promise to help, Rose.” James led her along, intentionally taking the longest route to their hall. “But, can’t you at least wait a week or so? Take some time to relax, see what the world has to offer here.” He tried to tell himself he was saying the words out of his mother’s instructions to protect her.

“I was sent here for a lesson, James.” Rose’s voice grew low and cold. “To see what I could never have, and return to a life where I will never be able to truly live. I have to run, because I refuse to go back to that.”

“She doesn’t own you, Rose.” James pulled her to a stop near a window that overlooked the garden. “You can find work here. Mother is looking for a new assistant, and Donna’s handmaiden will be marrying soon. Either one of them would happily hire you.” He wasn’t sure why he was fighting so hard to make her stay, but something deep inside of him wanted to see her forever gracing these halls. “Two weeks, Rose, give it two weeks. If you still wish to run, I will personally walk you to the harbor to secure passage to Boeshane.”

He expected Rose to protest again, but she gave a resigned sigh. “Fine, but only two weeks.” She offered him a shy smile, one she hadn’t quite worn before and he wasn’t able to discern it’s meaning. They turned into their hall, only to be greeted by the sound of her sister’s voice.

“There you are, Rose.” Reinette was standing at Rose’s door, her hand falling away from the knob. “I was just coming to see if you wanted to talk before turning in.” Her eyes took them both in, and James could practically see her mind at work trying to figure out what was going on. He knew that cold calculated look, for it was one the King often wore. “That dress is lovely. Where ever did you get it?”

“I’m actually very tired.” Rose feigned a yawn as she covered her mouth. Then she glanced down at her simple gown. “Oh, it was a gift from James’ mother. She’s the royal midwife and the Prince’s nursemaid when he was a child. We just had dinner.” James bit back a snicker at the completely clueless air Rose had drawn to herself.

“I see, well are you sure you don’t want to talk-“ she swallowed once. “Sister. I would just love to see your quarters.”

“I really am tired.” Rose shook her head before looking up at him. “Perhaps Sir James can escort you back.”

“I know the way.” Reinette’s eyes flashed, and the look she gave Rose was one that held all the weight of veiled contempt and threat. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She brushed past them and disappeared.

“Better go in and see what disaster she spawned.” James had a sneaky suspicion that she had already been in Rose’s room.

“She didn’t get in.” Rose reached into her cleavage and pulled out a key. “Before coming to dinner I checked to see if the washroom lock matched the main room, and it did.”

“You, are a very, very smart woman.” James acted reflexively when he reached up to tuck the hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. “Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You too.” She slid her arm free of his, her cheeks flushing in a way that made his breath catch. She unlocked the door and stepped inside before freezing. “Wait, your jacket.” She shrugged it off and held it out to him. James took it gently from her, taking the time to admire the way her eyes lit up like honey in firelight, as her tongue curled up to her teeth with a grin. “Goodnight.” She turned away to duck into her room and close the door.

James stared at the wood, as he raised the coat to his nose. The smell of vanilla and sandalwood oils clung to the collar, and he found himself breathing it in as he shrugged it onto his torso. He turned to his own door, cracking it open and stepping in, only to be met with a pillow being tossed at his face.

“James, where have you been?” Jack was seated on a large couch near the fire. “You usually show up at my room for a nightcap. I had to come see if you were fine.”

“Perfectly well, your Highness.” He picked up the pillow and launched it back at his friend. “I was simply dining with the ladies and my mother.”

“And Rose?” Jack gave him a roguish grin as he nodded. “She is rather pretty, and polite from the brief description I coaxed out of Donna and Amy on my way here.” He unstoppered the bottle of mead he had set on the small table near the sofa and poured two glasses.

“She is all of those.” James assured him, taking one of the offered drinks. “I think she’s in love with your library though.” He offered as they touched glasses.

“Her sister was far less impressed by my books. Perhaps I should marry Rose instead.” He chuckled. “Wouldn’t that put a right bee in my father’s bonnet?”

“I’d rather not see her face a tragic accident while riding or have a candle fall on her sheets while she sleeps.” James rolled his eyes at his prince. The kingdom was lucky Jack took after his mother and not his father. “I like her the way she is, in one piece.” He sipped his drink, mentally slapping himself for admitting that

“Oh, so you like her.” Jack barked out a laugh and clapped his shoulder. “Perhaps by the end of these two months, we’ll both be married then.”

“In your dreams, Jack.” James chuckled at the light hearted banter. He had never really given a thought to marriage, or even courting. It was hard to do so when one was in constant company of Prince Jack Harkness-Tyler.

“Speaking of women.” The prince threw back the last swallow of mead in his glass. “Reinette declined the ride Donna put together tomorrow. She said she wants to rest further after such an arduous journey.” He shook his head. “So, let Donna and Amy know not jto wait for her in the morning.” He opened the door before turning around. “Reinette is beautiful like no woman I’ve ever seen, but I’m not so sure about anything else with her.” Before James could reply, he was in the hall.

“That man is going to give me grey hairs before I’m thirty.” James sighed to no one. He made his way to his bedroom door, loosening the strings of his collar as he went. Again the scent of sandal wood and vanilla brushed his senses, and he smiled as he recalled her agreement to stay. Now he only needed to find out what was going on with his mother and Rose’s birthmark.

 

 


	5. Warnings and Gifts

When Rose awoke the next morning, some part of her mind told her it had all been a dream. Yet, the warm sheets and soft mattresses under her told her it was real. The smell of bacon, toast, eggs, and fresh fruit teased her senses, and she didn’t want to open her eyes for fear of the dream shattering.

“Rose, sweetheart, breakfast is here.” It was a voice from her dream, Sarah Jane Smith. A soft hand pushed her hair away from her face, and she used that at motivation to open her eyes.

She was still at the castle, in a guest room, with breakfast waiting by the fire, and the royal nursemaid and midwife coaxing her to consciousness. “Mornin’” Rose yawned and rubbed her eyes. The morning sun coming through the window was bright and made her squint. Her body was unaccustomed to seeing it upon awakening, as she was usually up and going before dawn. “Thanks for the breakfast, you didn’t have to.”

She turned her sheets back to stand as Sarah Jane went behind her to slide a warm dressing robe over her shoulders. “Oh, yes, I did. You’re a guest.” Rose tied the belt and forced back another rejection to the behaviors. “Do you mind if I join you?”

“Please do.” Rose sat down on one of the cushions by the fire and began loading her plate, as Sarah Jane settled across from her.

“Rose, I’m sure you understand that politics and the games surrounding them here in the capitol, can be deadly.” Sarah Jane’s voice was low as she leaned closer.

Rose nodded, swallowed the bacon she was chewing. “Of course. Which is why up until yesterday, I actively avoid anything to do with it.” It was one of the reasons she had been so hesitant to join Donna, Amelia, and James out riding.

“I can’t tell you everything right now, but last night when I met you, I really had thought i met a ghost from my past.” She glanced towards the door and window, making Rose feel a bit paranoid that people were eavesdropping or watching them. “Who is your mother, your birth mother?”

Rose chewed her bite of eggs before swallowing nervously and responding. “Some brothel woman or something.” She picked up another bite of eggs. “Father never spoke of her except to say I look very much like her.”

“That’s a lie.” Sarah Jane whisper made Rose freeze midbite. “I can’t tell you everything, not until I can prove everything, but I can tell you this. You do look like your mother, and I know this because I’m the one who helped bring you into this world.” She paused again before whispering. “James confirmed it for me when he saw your birthmark.”

“If this is all true.” Rose highly doubted it was, but still the conversation made her feel a bit nervous. “Where is my mother now?”

“Dead.” Sarah Jane’s face was the picture of grief. “Murdered when you were just eight months old.” She reached over to cup Rose’s hand. “Please, be safe Rose. I haven’t told James anything yet, nor will I until I can prove it. Just, trust no one except him, Donna, and Amelia.”

Rose pulled her hand away from Sarah Jane. It was true that her mother had died when she was eight months old, her father had told her that. Yet, if Rose was delivered by the royal midwife, and she knew all of this, then that meant there was some truth to it all. “why tell me this? Why now?”

Sarah Jane squeezed her eyes closed tightly before leaning forward to whisper even softer. “Because I want you to keep your eyes and ears open, to know that not every friendly smile can be trusted. Donna and Amy are good people, and my son has already sworn to me to keep you safe. I wish we would trust the Prince, but until he is king, he is beholden to his father.”

Rose found her delicious breakfast suddenly flavorless. She was unsure whether or not to believe Sarah Jane, but either way it didn’t matter. In two weeks she would be on a ship to Boeshane, and that’s all she would focus on. “Thanks for the breakfast, and the, er, warning.” Rose offered Sarah Jane a polite smile. “I’ll do my best to keep out of trouble, but I do have to change to go riding.” She stood up, waiting for her breakfast guest to leave

“Right! Of course!” Sarah Jane scrambled to her feet as well, shaking her head and scoffing. “I let myself get distracted. I know your other riding clothes were worn for four days, and they have yet to be taken to the laundry. I brought a set of mine over, and seeing as the dress fit well, they should too.” She motioned to the ensuite. “They are in there, change and I’ll clean up.”

Rose hurried out of the room, wanting to put some distance between herself and the atmosphere the conversation had created. She completed her morning ablutions before turning to the clothing. Sarah Jane had brought her a pair of rich brown leather riding pants, with olive green embroidery of vines and leaves. There was a flowing linen shirt that slid over her head and tucked into the pants and laced up the front but stopped just where her under-bodice pushed up her breasts. It tied with soft cotton strings there. Over that she had a leather vest with a high collar that clasped together across her abdomen, but was held in place by a belt with a round buckle. There was also a pair of brown leather wrist length gloves that she tucked into her belt.

She dressed slowly, giving herself time to contemplate the information she had been given. Everything inside of her pushed against it. She didn’t understand how any of it could be true. If Sarah Jane had indeed delivered her, that meant Rose’s mother was here in the palace. That meant she hadn’t been born over the north sea. Still, it meant she was illegitimate. Although, perhaps her mother’s family was still alive, and she could contact them.

By the time she had slid her own boots on, someone knocked at the door to her room. James was waiting when she answered. “Good morning, Rose.” His smile was easy and warm. “I see my mother has once again raided her wardrobe for you.” He took her fingers in his and raised the knuckles to his lips

Rose forced herself to smile in return. “She is generous, your mum. She even joined me for breakfast.” She still felt on edge, but didn’t want to let on, so she let him lace her arm through his as they walked. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Nah.” James shook his head, squeezing her arm gently. “We’ll actually be early to the stables. I figured you’d want to get to know Idris, the mare you’ll be riding.”

Rose waited until a set of servants scurried past before asking the question on her mind. “Why does your mum think I’m in danger?”

James let out a heavy breath and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m not sure, actually. She just told me to protect you and keep you in sight at all times before she began furiously digging through her records books and writing a message.” He playfully bumped her shoulder with his bicep. “Just stick with me, Donna, Amelia, and Jack. You are a guest here, and therefore fall under the castle protection.”

Rose wanted to say that Sarah Jane had warned her against Jack, but she kept that tidbit to herself. Luckily, they were now outside on the path down to the stables, where two grooms were adjusting the saddles and bridles of four horses. “They’re gorgeous.”

“You’ll be riding the palomino on the right.” James gestured to the aforementioned mare, who was brushed and combed so thoroughly her coat shone like polished gold. “That’s Gallifrey.” He led her closer, pointing at the powerful blue roan war horse stallion beside Idris. “My mount.” He gestured to the other two mares, one a feisty appaloosa who was currently trying to lip a carrot from the groom’s pocket as he checked her hooves. “That is Artron, Donna’s favorite mare.” The solid black mare was standing there, ears back, positively refusing to accept the bit. “And that is Pandorica, Amelia’s little devil.”

“Pandorica is not a devil.” Amy’s voice rang from behind them, and they turned to see her and Donna striding towards them. Rose was pleased to note that they were dressed similar to her, only their shirts appeared to be silk instead of linen like hers. Amelia thwacked James in the back of the head as she passed, and quickly took the bridle of the groom. “Open.” She cooed to the mare, who obediently let her slide the bit into place. “See, she just only listens to me.”

“Because she’s a devil.” Donna quipped, beaming as she passed them to go kiss her mare on the muzzle.

Rose pulled away to approach Idris, and the mare blew a breath into her face before lipping her cheek affectionately. “Well aren’t you affectionate?” Idris huffed again before nudging Rose’s pockets, and when she dipped her hand in, Rose giggled when it closed around a small mint candy. “Oh, somebody is used to being spoiled.” She offered it on her palm and beamed as Idris lipped it up delicately.

“Up you get.” James came behind her and helped her mount with ease. Donna and Amy were already in their saddles, pulling on their riding gloves or adjusting their stirrups. She patted Idris’ neck affectionately as James lifted on long leg high into his stirrups and pulled himself up. From atop Gallifrey, he shoulder was level with the top of her head.

They waited until the stablehands had strapped bags with their lunches over their saddles, and then James led them at a steady trot towards the wall that led out to the beach. Idris’ gait was smooth, just as sweet as her affections, but when Rose nudged her into a gallop she had to let her excitement out with a yip. Idris could run. Despite being the smallest of the group, each powerful stride had her keeping even with them all.

“Told you this would be fun.” Amy beamed at her, as they broke free of the thin treeline and down a grassy meadow towards the waves and sand.

“Thanks for inviting me.” Rose grinned right back. It wasn’t often she got to just ride for the joy of it, and while the others headed towards the sand, Rose kept Idris in the grass, working her through her paces. Her new friends had edged their horses into the surf now, their laughter ringing back as their mounts playfully splashed and turned in the shallow waves. Idris nickered, and Gallifrey trumpeted back. “Want to splash too, sweetling?” Idris’ ears perked up, and she gave a feisty side step. “Well let’s go!”

She gave Idris’ her head, and the mare cantered to the group to play as well. Her conversation with Sarah Jane over breakfast was driven from her mind as she laughed and played. Rose hadn’t felt so free and alive in as long as she could remember. When she slid from the saddle to the sand where Amelia and Donna were unpacking their lunch, she was breathless and windswept.

“I am so glad I came.” Rose settled onto the blanket with them and took a swig from her wineskin. “I don’t think I’ve ever had this much fun.” She watched as James led their horses over to a copse of trees and tied them off so they could graze.

“Oh, just wait until the gala tonight.” Donna laughed, plucking a small mince pie from her spread. “Food, drinks, and dancing. It’s always a blast.”

Rose felt her happiness deflate a bit. She wasn’t invited to the Gala. Only the women partaking in the two month courting or married women with their husbands were to be in attendance. She had overheard someone talking about it in the library. “You’ll have to tell me all about it tomorrow.” She picked up her own small pie, chicken, judging from the succulent aroma.

“And why tomorrow?” Amy tossed her hair over her shoulder as she dropped to one elbow to pick at some fruit. “It’s a masquerade, nobody would know who you are.”

“I bet James would want you to.” Donna gave a teasing smirk just as James flopped down.

“James wants Rose to what?” He asked, snagging his unattended wine skin.

“Nothing.” Rose shook her head and finished off her pie. “They’re just teasing me.”

“They do that.” James snagged a small meat sandwich. “Just ignore them and maybe they’ll disappear.” He flashed her that wreckless roguish smile again. “Be right back.” He hurried up to go help Gallifrey who had wrapped himself around some bushes.

“I’m not going.” Rose shook her head at the women she was hesitantly thinking of as her friends. “The last thing I need to have happen is getting thrown out for violating etiquette.”

“Suite yourself then.” Amy shrugged, finishing up the last of her lunch before making her way over to Pandorica to feed her some of the left over fruits.

“You’re going to miss all the fun of Jack being surrounded by women who want his attention, but he has no intention of choosing.” Donna seemed very sure of that fact. “He’s met most of these women at other balls or festivities, excluding your sister Reinette. He said he can’t stand how proper they all are.”

“But he’s the prince. Isn’t propriety in his blood?” Rose was intrigued now, despite being who they were and from different backgrounds, Donna was including her in gossip most never even mentioned in her presence. She had to admit, she was beginning to like being viewed for herself and not her birth.

“Only when his father is around.” James had flopped back down, very close to Rose, and picked up a banana. “He takes more after Arcadia, his mum. She was always trying to loosen the etiquette of the castle up.”

Rose busied herself with finishing her lunch while James and Donna discussed some matter with their grandfather and his upcoming visit for James’ birthday. When they were done, he stood and held out a hand to Rose, pulling her to her feet.

“I’ll go get the horses, time to go back so the ladies can get ready for the masquerade.” He squeezed her hand before jogging to where Amy was mounting Pandorica. Rose watched him as she buckled up her saddle bags absentmindedly.

“I do think, Lady Rose, that my cousin likes you.” Donna flashed her a sly grin and nodded to James, who had looked back over his shoulder at them. “What do you think of him?”

Rose bit her lip and shook her head. “No, he’s just being friendly is all. Men don’t ever pay me mind. I’m not exactly a suitable match.”

“James is not most men.” Donna picked up her saddlebag, where she had just folded the blanket. “I noticed you wearing gloves last night and again today. I’m assuming he told you about his traits.”

“He did, yeah. Doesn’t everyone know?” Rose arched an eyebrow as James led the horses near. She had just assumed it wasn’t a secret.

“No, only his mum, our grandfather, the Prince, Amy, and I.” Donna’s sly smile turned to a knowing grin. “And now you. If he told you, he trusts you, and James never trusts anyone.”

Rose processed her words as James helped her mount, and as they road back up into the small wood, she did notice him shooting furtive side glances her way. She began to see that Donna was right, James’ glances weren’t the light hearted ones he gave his cousin and friend, they were studious, inquisitive, like he was trying to read her. Knowing she probably shouldn’t, because letting herself feel affections would hurt once she ran away, she caught him looking again and flashed him a smile she hoped was flirtatious. It must have worked, because his ears and cheeks tinged pink, accentuating his freckles, and he gave a silly grin back.

When they returned to the stables, Donna and Amy bid their farewells and a groom informed James that the Prince had summoned him when he returned. That left Rose to walk herself up to the castle and to her room. She planned on reading a bit before she would go to dinner alone. She had just settled onto her couch when a knock drew her attention. “Come in!” She called, setting her book aside. For a moment she dreaded it would be Reinette, but then Sarah Jane’s friendly smile filled her doorway.

“Not getting dressed for the gala?” She asked, taking in the fact that Rose was still in riding clothes.

“No.” Rose shook her head and shrugged a shoulder. “Donna and Amelia invited me, but I don’t want to start any trouble if anyone finds out who I am.”

“If Donna and Amelia invited you, that means the Prince is okay with you being there.” Sarah Jane came in and gestured for Rose to stand. “Do you want to go?”

Rose wasn’t sure. One part of her did, just so she could spend time with her new friends and blend in. Another part of her didn’t want to risk her sister pitching a fit either. Not to mention the ominous warning she had been given that morning. “I don’t have anything to wear.” She figured it was as good an excuse as any.

“I think we can manage something.” Sarah Jane gave her a motherly smile, something she had never been given by anyone before, and held out a hand. “Come with me to my room. I had your friend Mickey help me dig something out of the storage wing.”

Rose hesitated, unsure of what to do, but despite the unnerving conversation this morning, Sarah Jane had been kind to her. She took her hand and followed her across the hall to the door James had said was their joined suite. When she stepped inside, she was treated to the sight of James walking from what could only be the bathing chamber with nothing but a pair of dress trousers, while he dried his hair.

“Hello Rose.” He beamed at her as he passed them. “Having dinner with my mum?” He didn’t seemed phased by the fact that he was half naked.

“Something like that.” Rose averted her eyes, while Sarah Jane drug her into her room. She couldn’t keep the blood from rushing to her cheeks

“I apologize for James’ occasional lack of manners.” Sarah Jane sighed as she locked the door.

Rose giggled at the exasperated look on the woman’s face. “I don’t mind, really.” She had to admit she didn’t. The more she saw James, and was around his mischievous, care free temperament, the more she wanted to be around him.

“I see. Well.” Sarah Jane’s eyes lit up as if she had made a connection somewhere. “Come look at this trunk.” She gestured to the massive wood and iron chest near the fireplace, before kneeling and trying to open the lid. It didn’t budge. “Oh, come on now.” She tried again.

Rose shook her head, noting that the woman couldn’t get the lockless latch to budge and inch. “Let me try.” She knelt down herself and grabbed at the latch. Something pricked her thumb, and she jerked back. “Ouch! What was that?” It hadn’t really hurt, but a drop of blood had smeared on the slightly rusted metal. Then, to her shock, the smear sizzled and popped before dissipating into the metal. With a click the latch flipped open. “Blood magic!” She had heard of it, but never seen it. “But blood magic only works for familial bonds.”

“Yes.” Sarah Jane nodded as she lifted the lid. “It was sealed with blood magic, put there by your mother. She wasn’t adept at magic, but anyone can work a blood spell. It’s more of a blood based potion really.”

Rose felt her heart leap into her throat. This chest had belonged to her hum, had been sealed by her own hand. “My mother’s?” A strange feeling swirled inside of her, not exactly grief but a heavy sadness. Her whole childhood had been a lie. Her mother had been noble born, as was evidenced by Sarah Jane lifting a gown so stunning and intricate that even Reinette would have drooled in envy.

“She wore this the night she met your father.” Sarah Jane laid the dress over the bed before pulling out a wooden box and a smaller velvet covered one. “Now, let’s get you bathed and dressed.”

Rose held her breath as she stared at the gown on the bed. She was going to wear her mother’s dress, to a gala, because despite what everyone thought she wasn’t some throw away. She didn’t even ask how Sarah Jane knew she would need this. She just accepted it. She let Sarah Jane shoo her into the washroom to bathe, and then hurried back so she could paint on her makeup and help her dress. Her stomach was a knot of nerves, but she didn’t let it bother her. Tonight she could be herself, retrace her mother’s footsteps, and maybe learn exactly who she was.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s Riding Clothes](https://static.hypable.com/wp-content/gallery/once-upon-a-time-2x05-the-doctor-bts/once-upon-a-time-regina.jpg?f0f9df)


	6. Unmasking the truth

Rose drew her fifth deep breath since approaching the doors to the ballroom. The guards seemed to sense she was nervous, so they did not open the doors immediately. Her dress was a bit more bulky than anything she had ever worn, but the material was lusciously soft and clung to her body in a way she could only define as royally.

The neckline of the powder pink gown ended just above the swell of her breast, swooping up to the edges of her shoulders to expose her fair chest and neck. The sleeves were sheer chiffon, with lace embroidery decorating her biceps, tight on her biceps but belling out just below her elbow. The bodice was a corset, tying securely lower on her back but ending just below her shoulder blades, and it was decorated with more of the same intricate lace patterns, giving the illusions that her curves were more define than they actually were. The skirts belled out, just above her hips. They were made of the same powder pink material, only in satin, with a single layer of the lace adorned chiffon that matched her sleeves.

Sarah Jane had worked for an hour on her face and hair, making sure everything about her complexion was the epitome of perfect. Her cheeks were dusted with a soft pink powder, as were her eyes. Her eyes had been lined with a gentle touch, smudging the edges to give her a more alluring look, and her lips had been dusted with the same pink powder mixed with an oil that tasted of lavender and vanilla. Sarah Jane had used hot rods to curl her hair and then pin it up into an intricate swirling crown on her head.

Pinned to the hairstyle was the strings of her mask, which was made from the same material as her skirt, outlined by gold chain, and covered by a modest blusher veil with lace dots. The jewelry had nearly made Rose turn everything down, but Sarah Jane had insisted. So, resting on her chest was an intricate band of diamonds, all different sizes, but held in place by pink colored gold. A matching set of earrings hung on each side of her face, brushing her jaw as she had walked. Rose had been astounded that the holes she had pierced into them at eleven were still open.

Steeling herself she nodded to the guards who opened the doors, and she stepped into the party crowd. Nobody paid her any attention, when she first entered, so she took the time to relax and breathe. She made her way around the outskirts of the dance floor, watching as couples moved in synchronization to the waltz being played by the orchestra. She reached the table holding the wines, and smiled when she recognized Amy and Donna, despite their masks. Their almost identical red hair was hard to miss. Donna was in all purple, wearing a gown quite similar to Rose’s, but Amy had gone for a powder blue dress that was slender and showed off her elegant neck and arms.

“Hello Ladies.” She whispered, picking up a goblet of white wine.

“Rose?” Donna hissed in shock, making Amy choke on her wine. “You look like a princess! Where did you get this ensemble.

“Shhh.” Rose raised a finger to her lips. “I’m not Rose. The masquerade is the point of being anonymous yeah?” She bit her lip and glanced around to make sure they weren’t overheard. “As for all of this. Sarah Jane gave it to me.”

“That woman knows more about where to acquire secret clothes in this castle than the seamstresses.” Amy giggled. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too.” Rose finished her wine, and turned to set the glass down, as the song finished.

“Excuse me, Madam.” The smooth voice of Prince Jack came from behind her. “But you were far past fashionably late in arriving.” Rose spun around quickly, hiding a squeak, to find Jack extending a gloved hand to her. “As punishment, you must dance with me.”

Rose shot Donna and Amelia a pleading look, but they both shook their heads as if to say they couldn’t get her out of it. “Of course, Your Highness.” Even behind his black half mask, there was no denying who he was. Rose placed her hand in his and let him guide her out to the dance floor.

She wasn’t exactly sure how the movements went, but she followed his lead. “What is your name, my Lady?” He asked with a curious smile, as he pulled her in from a spin.

“Your Highness.” Rose did her best to put a coy smile on, trying to hide the way her heart was pounding. She was sure he had figured it out. “It would ruin the mystery if I divulged that information.” She held tightly to his arms as he lifted her for a brief twirl.

“You’re the first person to not say.” Jack chuckled, pressing his palms to hers as they came together and back. “Almost makes me wonder if you were not on the invitation list?”

“It would speak poorly of your security if they let someone in who wasn’t allowed.” Her nerves were easing a bit, as Rose realized he really didn’t know who she was. “I assure you, I was invited to the castle for this event.” That wasn’t a lie.

“Well, then I look forward to figuring out exactly who you are.” Jack laughed, a warm, sultry thing as the song drew to a close. “Dance with me again.” He reached for her hand.

“Your Highness, you have another three ladies with whom you have not danced.” James’ voice cut in, and Rose breathed a silent sigh of relief. As much as she had enjoyed the banter with the Prince, he was not the one she wanted to spend time with. “You know the rules.”

“We’ll pick this up later.” Jack’s voice was heavy with promise as he passed Rose to James with obvious reluctance and disappearing.

“My mother did a phenomenal job.” James chuckled, bowing low as the next song started. “You look absolutely breath taking.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Rose chanced a glance towards where Donna and Amy had been standing. They were both gown, but she spotted their red hair in the dancers.

“That smile.” James spun her out easily and then drew her close. “I’ve seen it so much over the last few days, there was no way I could miss it.”

“I think I made a mistake dancing with the Prince.” Rose admitted, trying to ignore the way his hand felt at her waist. “I didn’t tell him who I was, and now he is curious.”

“I won’t tell if you don’t.” James hummed as he turned her back to his chest and took her hands at her waist to execute a graceful turn. “But I won’t be able to cut in if he comes to dance again.” His voice sounded a bit disappointed at that statement, and when Rose was spun back to face him, his normally smiling lips were in a line.

“What’s wrong?” Rose tried to read his eyes behind their navy blue striped mask with red crystals along the edges. It matched the pinstriped pants, white silk shirt, and red coat he was wearing perfectly. She again noted just how attractive she found him, but she tried to push the feelings away.

“Something my mother told me while you were bathing, about your mother.” James didn’t look like he was judging her. “Let’s get you something to eat.” He twirled her off the floor and towards the food tables.

“What did she tell you?” Rose whispered, glimpsing around to make sure they weren’t overheard. “She won’t tell me anything. It’s making me nervous.”

“Let’s just say.” James drew a breath. “That she is working hard to find proof that can not be refuted.” He handed her a plate with small bite sized portions and looked down at his hands. “I will tell you when it’s safe, I promise. It’s just, you may not like what it will all means.

Rose didn’t taste the food she was eating, but it gave her something to occupy her mouth. She looked away as she saw Reinette laughing with a tall blonde woman with hair to her waist. There was no mistaking that emotionless, smug, sound. “Shit.” She let the curse slip out.

“Hey, she won’t recognize you.” James snagged a couple flutes of champagne from a passing server. “I barely did.”

Rose hoped he was right, but already her nerves were kicking back in. She was about to excuse herself and run for it, when Jack reappeared. “Thank you for keeping my favorite dance partner of the night away from others, James.” He flashed a warm smile and held out a hand. “Come and dance with me again.”

Rose wanted to object, but she knew it was useless. Instead she passed her flute of drink to James and let herself be dragged back out to the floor. “I am flattered that you find my dancing pleasing, Your Highness.” She was an expert at false niceties.

“I find your lack of interest in me intriguing.” His uncovered eyebrow arched, and he gave her a dazzling smile. “Why come, if not to vie for my attentions.”

Rose floundered for a retort, as the music had slowed to an intimate melody, resulting in her being pulled closer to Jack, one hand around her waist and the other holding he fingers gently. “My mother said to come, and so I did as I was told.” Again, not technically a lit but not enough to be the truth either. “Although I am enjoying my stay immensely.”

“Well, perhaps I can figure out who you are and spend some time alone with you.” Jack dipped her low before pulling her back up so that her veil brushed his lips. “We could go riding or I can take you sailing. Have you been to the library? We could spend an afternoon there?”

Rose let herself admit she was enjoying messing with his mind, offering him a challenge. “I’ll tell you what, my Prince.” She giggled as he lifted her again before pulling her back into his arms. “If you figure out who I am, I’ll accept your offer of an afternoon alone.”

“Hmm, I do enjoy a challenge.” Jack brought her to a stop, and she realized they were near the doors leading to the balcony that overlooked the garden. “Come outside for a bit of air, and let me see what I can deduce.” He curled his fingers around hers and led her out into the night air.

Rose glanced back, searching for James, and found him standing in the doorway with his back to them, pretending to drink from a goblet. “I’m not giving any clues.” She glanced again in time to see James shooing Amy and Donna away.

“You’re from one of the wealthier families.” Jack gestured at her dress and jewelry. “Let me get a good look at you.” He began walking around her, and had almost made it to her back when James interrupted.

“Your Highness, time for the toast.” Jack froze at his words, coming to a stop before he could step behind her.

“To hell with these strict schedules.” He sighed, before turning to bow to Rose and kiss her knuckles. “I’ll think on this, and find out who you are.” He disappeared inside and Rose let out a breath.

“That was close.” James stepped out onto the balcony and closed the door. “I can’t believe she didn’t cover up your birthmark.” He came behind Rose to run his fingers over the brown paw shaped spot she knew was there.

“What is the big deal with it?” Rose shivered at the way his fingers brushed along her skin. She bit her lip and held very still as he came around to stand in front of her.

“I promise you’ll know soon.” Rose glanced up at him. She didn’t want to go back to the gala, but she didn’t want to retire either. The full moon was shining down on the gardens beyond them, which was lit by oil lanterns and coal sconces. His eyes were darting between hers and he drew a breath. “Walk with me in the gardens?” Rose nodded, lacing her fingers through his as he led her down the short stairs. She didn’t even notice an earring coming loose and hitting the ground.

James was an emotional wreck, and he couldn’t tell Rose a word. As Rose was bathing, his mother had pulled him aside and shown him her records books. She kept a strict documentation for his Grandfather, who was the national historian. There, twenty years ago, was an entry: Marion Tyler, born April 27th, to King Peter and Queen Jacqueline Tyler, golden hair, honey eyes, paw print shaped birth mark on the left shoulder. Birth midwifed by Sarah Jane Smith and Sylvia Noble, witnessed by Tabetha Pond and Wilfred Mott. Her suspicions had been confirmed when Rose’s blood had opened the trunk containing the very outfit she was wearing.

James wasn’t sure exactly how to process this. For years people had speculated that King Rassilon had had his brother, sister in law, and niece assassinated, but there was never any proof. James was best friends with the Prince, who wasn’t even the rightful heir to the throne. To top it all off, he had started developing feelings for Rose, or well Marion, and it just complicated things even further. He had, from the moment she had sassed off at him in the library, been drawn to her. Despite everything he could tell she’d been through, underneath it was a fire. He had flirted and enjoyed the company of women, but none of them had ever piqued his interest quite like Rose.

Now, he was harboring a heavy secret from her, a secret that would either result in her death or a kingdom wide revolution. Either way, a relationship between them would never work. And to top it all off, now Jack was interested in her and would be doing everything in his power to figure out who she was. It would be an easy thing to stop if he could just tell his friend that Rose was actually his cousin, but he couldn’t.

“Penny for ‘em.” Rose’s voice drew him back to the present, where they had wandered deep into the gardens. “Your thoughts that is.”

“Ask me again in a week.” James forced himself to relax and give her a silly smile. When she grinned back, he felt his heart skip a beat.

“James.” Rose paused by a fountain to trail her fingers along the damp stone. “Am I making a mistake?”

He was confused. “What do you mean?” He leaned against the stones and braced his hands on them, watching as she reached up to tuck her hair behind her ear, only couldn’t because it was all pinned up.

“Staying, like you asked me to.” Rose’s lip caught between her teeth for a moment before she leaned against the stones beside him. “The longer I do, the more I feel like I could belong here. Yet, the longer I stay the more this mystery of my mother looms over me like an executioner’s axe.” She blinked up at him from behind her mask, swallowing. “How can I trust you when you won’t tell me what you know?”

James almost ripped his mask off as he drug his hands over his face. “On my seventeenth birthday, I swore a vow to serve the rightful heir to the throne and do everything within my power to keep that heir safe and to keep the kingdom from falling.” He rolled back his sleeve to expose a thin scar just below the crease of his elbow. “I signed that vow with blood, and to break that vow would be death.”

“I’m not sure what swearing protection of Jack has to do with my question?” Rose tilted her head in confusion, crossing her arms over her stomach. “Unless you’re talking about the keeping the kingdom safe part.”

“Both, and neither.” James yearned to tell her the truth, to make her realize who she was, and why she was feeling like she belonged there. “Just, it means that I will do everything with in my power to keep anyone from harming you, ever again.”

“You’ve known me for two days, James.” Rose’s sarcastic snort made him bristle, but at the same time the challenge on her lips lured him in. “Now I’m wondering if Donna was right.” She straightened herself up moving to stand closer to him, raising the blusher veil up from her face.

“What did Donna say to-“ James sighed as his sentence was cut short. Rose had taken advantage of his lowered height to grab hold of his coat lapels and press her lips to his firmly. It was easy to tell she had never kissed before, because the movement was a bit too forced and oddly angled. Still, her lips were soft, tasting of champagne and the colored oils painted on them.

He shouldn’t be kissing her back, because she was a princess, the princess, the woman who should be queen, and he was just hired help to the usurper’s son. He definitely should not be taking her cheeks in his palms and tilting her head to the side so that their lips could part and their tongues could hesitantly explore and brush against each other. Yet, it felt better than any kiss he had shared, there was no urgent wine fueled need or flirtatious lust, just a deep warm feeling that settled into his chest. Feeling and logic were battling for dominance in his mind, and logic won out. He pulled away, forcing his eyes open. “Rose, we can’t.” The hurt frown that crossed her face, and the tears he saw her blink away behind her mask made feeling kick logic in the knackers.

“Right, because you’re the Prince’s right hand man, and I’m just a bastard handmaiden playing dress up.” Rose jerked out of his arms and tried to walk away.

Feelings grabbed a massive brick and bashed logic so hard it went flying from his mind. James grabbed her hand, pulling her back to him, and cupping her cheeks in his hands once more. “No, you silly woman. Quite the opposite.” He pressed his forehead to hers terrified to reveal the truth, but he couldn’t. “I’m the one who would never be permitted to court you, Princess Marion.” He kept his voice low, despite their isolation.

“I’m sorry, what?” Rose snorted and jerked away from him. “That’s hilarious, James. Seriously, I’m supposed to believe that my mysterious dead mother was actually Queen Jacqueline, and she had an affair with my father.” Her laughter bounced off the stone paths, and she rolled her eyes. “I may be blonde, James, but I’m not so easily fooled.”

“Your father wasn’t Martin O’Brien.” James didn’t let her mocking laughter shake him. “We have no clue how he took you, unless he was the assassin himself. But it’s true. My mother has sent for my aunt, my grandfather, and Amy’s mother. They were all present at your birth. Once they arrive we’ll figure out a safe way to announce it.”

Rose’s smile faded away, and her jaw dropped in shock. “Hang on.” She held up her hands. “You’re serious?” Her hand flew to the necklace at her throat. “I’m-I’m- I’m a princess.” James moved quickly to grab her before her knees could give out.

“Now do you understand why my vow means you can trust me?” He helped her over to sit on the edge of the fountain. “You are the rightful heir to the throne, not Jack, and certainly not Rassilon. My oath is to you, and you alone. It always has been.”

James wasn’t sure what further reaction was to be expected from her, but a firm slap to his cheek was certainly not what he’d had in mind. “You knew all night, and you let me flirt with my bloody cousin!”

“I did try to intervene, but I couldn’t do more without exposing you.” He rubbed his cheek wincing as he realized that the crystals on the edge of his mask would leave bruises. “My first priority is to keep you safe.”

“You kissed me back.” Her words must have been as scattered as her thoughts, because the subject change made even James dizzy. “But then you stopped because you didn’t think I’d want you when I found out.”

“Yes.” James nodded, bracing himself for another slap. “I’m sorry I told you like this. I just didn’t want you to walk away thinking I thought you beneath me.”

“Oh, just shut up.” Rose grabbed him and pulled his lips to hers once more. This time, he didn't pull away. James just hoped that she understood he had been interested before he knew the truth. Judging by the way she smiled when she pulled back, she did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s Gown](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/1b/19/e4/1b19e47dd3f7afc1dbcb07e239f9d5c6.jpg)   
>  [Rose’s Mask](https://www.dhresource.com/albu_857407973_00-1.0x0/romantic-aesthetic-lace-veil-dance-party.jpg)   
>  [Rose’s Jewelry](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/c9/0a/93/c90a9389dabe0909ccfeccd0892625cc.jpg)


	7. Midnight Talks and Royal Requests

Rose sat quietly on the ottoman by the fire, staring intently at the tea cup in her hand. James was seated behind her, slowly removing the pins holding her hair in place. Sarah Jane was in the other room, hanging up Rose’s ball gown and putting away her delivery journals that she had shown her.

She felt strangely numb inside, almost like the time she and Mickey had gotten into his father’s mead and drank until they couldn’t stand. Yet, she was also hyper aware of everything from the feeling of James’ fingers to the crackling of the log in the hearth. She replayed the last few hours over and over in her mind, trying again to find any mistake or inconsistencies in what she had been told and read. All that did was confirm two truths of her life. The first was that she was the daughter of King Peter and Queen Jacqueline. The second was that if they did not think of a solution before her uncle returned in two and a half weeks, she’d be dead.

“Finish your tea, my Lady.” James’ voice was soft as he tousled her now loosened curls around her face and combed them through with his fingers. “It will help you sleep.”

Rose did as he said, but not before whispering. “How many times am I going to tell you not to call me that?”

“Not wanting to hear the words does not negate the truth of them, Rose.” James’ whisper was directly in her ear, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. She leaned back slightly, until she felt his chest against her back, turning her head so that she could blink up at him through her drowsy shock.

“I’m terrified.” She barely breathed. This is how their conversations had been since James had snuck her in through a hidden passage and delivered her straight to his mother, half audible words whispered almost directly into ears, for fear that someone standing outside the door would overhear.

“I know, but I will not let anyone harm you.” He traced her lower lip with his thumb. “We’ll figure something out, and if we cannot, then I will get you somewhere safe until we can.” His lips pressed to her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally grazed along her own lips in the gentlest of touches.

“Ahem.” The sound of Sarah Jane clearing her throat made them both jump slightly. Rose meant to pull away, but James wrapped his arms around her. “As happy as it makes me to see you two like this, unwed kissing in night clothes is far from proper.” With that she popped James in the back of head with a heavy, leather bound book she was holding. “You, sir, should know better.”

“Sorry, Sarah Jane.” Rose felt her cheeks flush as she sat up straighter, but James’ hands did not move from her waist. “It was my fault. I started it.” She worried her lower lip with her teeth, tasting the honey mead and tea mixture he had been drinking.

“I thought I had lost this.” Sarah Jane settled on the couch next to James as she held out a book. “When news reached the castle of your parents’ deaths, my late husband and I worked fast to get as much of their personal effects hidden away before your Uncle could make it to the castle. It was smart we did, because he ordered all of their portraits and paintings to be locked away or destroyed.” Rose took it, running her hands over the cover. “This was your father’s sketch book. He loved to paint, draw, and even sculpt. Your mother, and then you, were his favorite subjects.”

Rose drew a shaky breath before opening the book. The very first thing she saw was a charcoal profile portrait of herself, removing her masquerade mask, except it wasn’t her. The cheeks were a little rounder, the nails longer and manicured, and the hair was so long it didn’t fit into the portrait. “Mum.” She touched the portrait, feeling her chest tighten as she turned the page. This one was a water color, her mother astride a magnificent horse as it leapt over a hedge.

There were other subjects on the pages, such as the city outside of the castle at sunset, a storm moving in over the sea, and other such items, but her mother was the primary person her father had chosen to display. The last few pages however, held portraits of a newborn wrapped in a knit blanket, another of the same child nursing, but the one that made her gasp was the one of the infant obviously sleeping on her stomach. There, as plain as day, was her birthmark.

“They’re beautiful.” She felt tears prick her eyes, and she used the sleeve of her night dress to wipe them away as she closed the book. “Thank you so much.” It was an odd sensation learning that her entire life had been a lie, and Rose wasn’t sure how exactly to describe it.

“They loved you very much.” Sarah Jane reached over to take her hands. “I’m so glad we found you. Jackie and Pete would be so proud of the woman you are.”

Rose swallowed past the emotions in her throat, and she nodded. She wasn’t sure what to say, what could be said. Her thoughts were a tangled mess and cloudy with exhaustion. “Can You keep this safe for me.” She passed the book back to Sarah Jane. “I need to sleep.”

“Of course.” Sarah Jane took it from her and smiled. “James, why don’t you escort Rose out to her door.”

Rose stood, letting James guide her across the room and out into the hall to her own door. She chewed her lip as she stood in front of him. “What if I just ran away?” The words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I don’t know the first thing being, well, that.” She gestured at his door and the information inside.

“If you want to run, I can’t stop you.” James’ eyes were sad as he gazed down at her. “But, you do deserve to be here, to be this.” He reached up to tug a curl against her cheek. “Sleep on it, and tell me what you decide tomorrow. My aunt, grandfather, and Amelia’s mother are arriving later this week.”

Rose nodded before going up on her toes to kiss his cheek. “I promise to tell you.” She needed time to herself to think. “Good night James.”

“Goodnight, Rose.” He pressed his lips to her forehead before turning away.

Rose hurried inside her room and collapsed onto the bed. For some reason, she realized she was crying. She wasn’t sure why, but it was like gaining this information had opened a wound of loss deep in her chest. She hadn’t cried since her father, or well adoptive father, had died. All of the pent up anger, grief, and pain just poured from her eyes onto the pillow. She didn’t even realize she had fallen asleep, until a quiet but firm knock came from her door.

Judging by the light pouring in, it was after sunrise, but before any of the servants came in to bring breakfast or make the beds. “One moment.” Rose knew her voice sounded scratchy, and her eyes felt swollen and achy. Still, she retrieved her dressing gown, tied it around herself, and opened the door. To her surprise, Jack was on the other side.

“Good morning, Your Highness.” Rose gasped, executing a quick curtsy before she remembered that in all actuality he should be bowing to her. She fought back that thought. “I did not know it was you, or I would have properly dressed.”

“No apologies needed, Rose.” Jack smiled and held his hands up as if to wave it off. “I am the one who came unannounced to your quarters.” He cleared his throat, lifting his eyes from where he had averted them. His eyebrows narrowed in concern. “Have you been crying? You have smeared lash paint and kohl on your face.”

“Um, yes.” Rose wiped at her cheek, pulling her fingers away and seeing the evidence there. “I was reading a tragedy before bed, and I fell asleep.” She hoped her lie worked, and it seemed to.

“I see. I’m glad it was that, then.” Jack gave her a friendly smile, that made Rose think if the truth came out he may not be so angry. “If someone had made you cry, while you were here as my guest, then I would be duty bound to defend your honor.” That made her giggle. If only he knew that the reason she had cried was because honor was demanding her to depose him. “I was actually wondering if I could ask you for a favor, seeing as how you get along so well with Donna, Amelia, and James.”

“What sort of favor, your Highness?” Rose watched as he pulled something from his pocket. She barely kept her face a mask as he opened his fist to reveal one of the earrings she had worn. “Oh my. That is lovely.” She squeaked.

“Very, and it was worn by someone last night at the masquerade.” Jack sighed and shook his head. “She intrigued me, and said that if I figured out who she is, she would spend an afternoon with me.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Rose felt her heart beginning to race. He was staring at the woman, and he didn’t even know it. Not to mention, any time spent together would be familial and not romantic. “What exactly is the favor?”

“I was wondering if you would allow James to escort you to the garden party that Sarah Jane constructed for the ladies.” He extended the earring to her. “And see if any of the ladies lost an earring last night. If I or any of the castle employees ask it will be too obvious.”

Rose reached out and closed her fingers over it. “Any particular reason why you are so adamant about finding out who she is?” She couldn’t deny that she was curious, after all Donna and Amelia had said they were sure he had already chosen someone. “Do you think she may be your future bride?”

“No, actually quite the opposite.” Jack laughed lightheartedly, his teeth flashing as he did. “She admitted she was only here because she was told to be. I simply wished to make good on my promise of an afternoon out.”

Rose pulled her hand back, with the earring in her grasp. “I promise I’ll do everything to find out who the owner of this is then.” She saw James’ door open behind him, and the confused but shocked look on hid face. He seemed already dressed for the day, in his usual brown pants and blue shirt. “Good morning James.”

Jack spun around. “I was coming to see you next.” He waved him over, and James came, his eyes concerned as he took in her puffy face. “James, since you have already spent two days with Rose, do you mind escorting her to the functions your mother planned today?”

“Not at all.” James’ face broke into a smile at the news. Rose couldn’t stop his smile from making her as well.

“Hang on.” Jack held up a finger and looked between the two of them. “Did I miss something here?” His eyebrows went up before he laughed as he made the connection. “I guess I did. Well, I’m going to go drive the morning counsel absolutely insane. You two, go socialize.” With that he headed up the hall and disappeared.

“What was that all about?” James watched him go.

“For me to find the owner of this.” She held up the earring and dangled it. “But I can’t exactly tell him The truth.”

“Not yet at least.” James furrowed his brow as if in thought. “Go wash up and change. Wear something light. Your breakfast should be up soon, and then I’ll meet you at the door to the gardens.” He kissed her chastely, but softly. “I have to sit in on the meeting.” Then he half jogged down the hall to catch up with Jack

Rose closed her door and hurried through to the washroom. She washed up quickly, cleaning her face free of any further makeup, and combed her hair back into a neat plait. Then she opened her closet. She had a choice of her servant dresses or the forest green one Sarah Jane had given her. With an inward acceptance, she pulled it down and stepped into it. The back was already laced, and she only needed to tighten it just a bit. It fit perfectly, the soft material forming against her curves, accentuating her hips with an darker green band of material that came together to hang down in front of her legs. The neckline was flattering, coming up to the shoulders where the sleeves hung loosely. She stepped into her simple black flat shoes, and left the closet.

Breakfast was waiting on the table like before, and she quickly ate her fill. Then, she cautiously tucked the earring into the bodice under her dress, so that she could pretend to be looking. Plastering a content look on her face, Rose set her tray in the hall and locked her room behind her. She made her way slowly down the hall, to the massive glass doors that led to the gardens. Some of the ladies were already outside, playing some game involving mallets, balls, and rings or laughing together.

“What are you doing here?” Reinette’s voice made Rose turn and glower. The woman she had thought was her sister was standing with a black haired girl about her age. “Shouldn’t you be off somewhere cleaning something.”

“Oh, shove off Reinette.” It felt good to finally say it, and the shock on her face was worth it. “I’m here because the prince told me to be, specifically.”

“Liar.” Reinette sneered, and the black haired girl tittered a giggle. “Like he would even remember you’re a guest.”

“She’s telling the truth.” Amelia’s voice carried down towards them. “He asked me this morning if I knew which quarters she was staying in. He said he had to ask her something.” Donna grinned at Rose over Amy’s shoulder.

Reinette’s face turned a dangerous shade of red, and she pushed herself right into Rose’s face. “You can’t hide behind these friends forever. When the Prince chooses me-“

“If, he chooses you.” Rose felt brazen in her knowledge of who she was as she cut her off. “I happen to have it on his own word, that he is looking for a woman who lost an earring at the masquerade. He showed it to me, and asked me to help him find the owner.” She reached out with a hand and pushed her back. “That’s why I’m here. So, tell me, did you lose an earring last night.”

“Those pearl chandeliers looked in tact when I saw you leave, Reinette.” Donna shook her hair back. “So, you best go sharpen your talons and let Rose get to her task.”

“Or We can tell the Prince that you were very rude towards a guest in his castle.” Amy crossed her arms and arched a brow. “Your choice.” Reinette growled, literally, at Rose before stalking away with her new found sycophant.

“Great cover story.” Donna burst out laughing, and soon Amy and Rose joined her. “I mean, on the spot excuse, best I ever heard.”

“Oh it’s not an excuse.” Rose reached into her bodice and pulled out the earring. “He wants me to find the owner of this.”

“But, hang on.” Amy leaned forward to squint at it. “Rose O’brien! You were wearing that.”

“I know.” She giggled, tucking it away again. “But don’t worry. The mysterious woman made it clear she has no interest in him. He’s just playing for the challenge.”

“Speaking of the mysterious woman.” Donna, nudged Rose playfully. “We saw her going into the garden with James. We were dying to know what happened.”

“Yes.” Amy looped her arm through Roses and angled her out the door to a bench by the rail. “Whatever could have come of the moonlit walk.”

Rose felt her cheeks flush, but she knew she couldn’t reveal everything. “Well, I heard from the breakfast maid, who heard from the cook, who heard from the gardener, that they kissed by the fountain with the dove sculptures.” She could still feel the sensation and taste of his lips on hers. Then, she was reminded again of what revelations came with that kiss, and the dilemma of her decision hit her hard.

“I knew it!” Donna held her palm out to Amy. “Pay up.”

“You were supposed to wait until after dinner tonight.” Amy winked at Rose before digging out two silver coins from the bag at her hip.

“Wait!” Rose spoke at the same time Jack did. She was about to ask exactly what the bet had been about, but Jack finished her question. “There was a wager, and I wasn’t asked to cast my bet?”

“A girly wager.” Donna stood and held her elbow to the Jack, who took it with a happy smile. “About silly things like prince charmings and true love.”

“Donna, the day you babble on about that is the day I toss my crown into the ocean.” Jack laughed and kissed her cheek. “Let me walk you down.” They strode down the steps together, drawing the eyes of the ladies enjoying the warm weather.

“He should just announce he’s choosing her and save the other ladies from suffering.” James’ voice drew her gaze, and she found him leaning against the door frame.

“Tradition says he can’t.” Amy rolled her eyes but smiled. “Besides, he loves the attention.”

“I think I saw Rory near the stables, as We were walking here.” At James’ words Amy lit up like the sun. “We’ll cover for you.”

Rose waved Amy away before turning to her own escort. “So Jack is choosing Donna?”

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’ and took her arm in his to guide her down the steps. “Well, only if you’ve decided to leave.”

Rose sighed as the walked. Some part of her did want to run. Jack would make a fair king, and Donna would be a great queen. Yet, if she ran, the truth of her parents’ murder would go untold. From what Sarah Jane and James had told her about Rassilon, Rose had no doubt he was responsible. “I’m staying.” The look on his face might have been pride, but she didn’t get a chance to look closer because he had leaned down to kiss her exuberantly.

“Now we have to find a way to tell Jack.” James pulled back to nod at his best friend who was sitting with his arm around Donna’s shoulders and telling some story she couldn’t make out.”

“How do you think he’ll respond?” Rose was worried, but she didn’t think Jack would ever bring her harm.

“I don’t know, but he’s waving us over.” They moved together to sit down beside him. James was on his right, and Rose was on James’ right. Reinette was a few feet away, looking ready to spew fire as James kissed the side of Rose’s head.

They listened to Jack tell his story for a bit, and then Rose went to work asking about the earring. She observed while the others took part in various lawn games and activities, and much to her distaste, Reinette managed to flirt her way into their canopy for lunch. Jack catered to her flattery, engaging her with that smile of his.

“So, sister.” Reinette had taken advantage of Jack eating to speak. “Mother will be so thrilled to hear what you have been up to. First man of the prince is quite the accomplishment.” Her tone was friendly, but Rose could detect the underlying threat. Apparently, so did James.

“Take care what idle gossip you spread.” James gave her a cold smirk. “Smearing my name is only slightly less punishable than that of the Prince’s.”

“Your mother should be proud though.” Jack reached over to squeeze Reinette’s fingers. “I’ve been trying to get him a woman for some time. Not many can take his dry humor and brutal honesty.”

“I’m sure Mother would be happy with anything the Prince approves of.” Rose lifted her wine goblet to her lips and flashed her a smug look. “After all, she’s the one who encouraged me to come.” She set her goblet back down and leaned back a bit in her chair.

“Of course.” Reinette pushed her plate away. “Your Highness, if I may take my leave. I wish to go freshen up.”

“I’ll see you at dinner, my Lady.” Jack and James stood as Reinette left in a swish of skirts. Victory welled in Rose’s chest as she watched her retreat.

“So, Rose.” Jack leaned forward eagerly. “Any news on who the owner of the earring is.” Rose was about to say no, when James let out a strangled cry and tackled her from her chair.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s Dress](https://img00.deviantart.net/6c1e/i/2016/230/c/b/rivendell_elf_cosplay___sage_green_dress_ii_by_arwendeluhtiene-daed0m6.jpg)


	8. Family Reunion

James’ father, who had been blood sworn to King Peter had died the same night as the King and Queen, had once told him what it would be like should a threat arise. James had only been five at the time, and he didn’t remember much about it. He just remembered that if he was near the person he was sworn to, there would be an uncontrollable urge to either remove them from harms way or eliminate the threat. Jack had never been in harms way, so James had never wondered why he didn’t feel that before.

So when he had been about to tell Rose to go ahead and be honest about the earring, he didn’t have any control over what occurred. His mind and body where screaming ‘get her away from the table’, and it was entirely instinctual. He moved, taking her by the waist, as gently but efficiently as possible, blocked her head from hitting the stones with his forearm, and then coming up, hand open, shouting “et comminatio finiendom!”

A crackle of energy, shot from his hand before he even perceived what the threat was. A small snake was poised, fangs bared at his face, and the energy struck it like lightning. The snaked flew into the, writhing, before crashing to the other side of the table and not moving. It had only been a matter of two or three seconds, but to James it was if time had slowed down. Time sped back up, as he pulled Rose to sit up, and began checking her over. He knew she wasn’t injured, but he had to check.

“I’m fine.” She brushed his hands away and stood shakily. “Just startled me is all. What the hell was that?”

“Fruit Adder.” Jack was straightening up, holding the snake by the tail. “They live in the orchards just outside the walls and eat the rodents.” He frowned at it and tossed the charred body into the container where the food scraps were dumped to dispose of. Then he turned back to them. “Rose, please do not take offense to the questions I’m about to say. You did not do anything wrong.”

Panic flooded James’ chest. He had bungled it up. If his oath had held to Jack, He would have tackled him, but Jack was not the rightful heir. “I can explain.” James held up his hands, intending to show he meant peace, as well as positioning himself between Jack and Rose. He didn’t think Jack would ever be as cruel as his father, but James knew that having their power threatened changed people.

“A venomous snake manages to find its way i to our lunch, and you defend Rose.” His face wasn’t angry or upset. James knew that look, he had seen it on Jack many times before. He was thinking, trying to piece it together. “Your oath is to protect the heir to the throne from harm, and yet you managed to somehow override that oath. How did you do it?”

“He didn’t.” Rose was trying to step forward, but James blocked her with his arm.

Jacks eyebrows arched, and he opened his mouth to speak. James didn’t let him, because something told him that if he didn’t tell the truth, their friendship and trust would be lost. “Jack, you were seven when your aunt and uncle died. Think hard, what do you remember about how they looked.” He swallowed hard, reaching back to touch Rose’s hand.

“I remember Aunt Jackie teaching me to ride, and Uncle Pete giving me my first sword.” His eyes darted between them as he spoke. “I remember my mother bringing me in to see Marion when she was a few days old, and Aunt Jackie wrapping her in the knit blanket I had watched my mother make, even though she had the bone sickness and her body ached constantly.” Jacks eyes were locked onto Rose now, as his voice grew soft and trailed off

“So you met Marion, do you remember anything about her?” James slowly pulled Rose forward, watching the area outside the gazebo to make sure they were not overheard.

“I remember King Peter being proud but worried, because she was born with the mark of the wolf.” Jack stepped closer to them, coming around his chair. “Because the mark only appears in our family every few centuries. Those who bear it always usher in an age of peace and prosperity, but not before a period of upheaval and war.” He held out his hand to Rose, and James saw her glance up at him. At James’ nod, she placed her fingers in his and let herself be pulled forward. “Look me in the eyes Rose.” She did and he gasped. “Let me see your left shoulder.” Rose turned and reached back to edge down the back of her dress.

“Jack.” James touched His shoulder lightly, as the man’s jaw dropped in shock. “Now you see why I reacted as I did.”

“Marion?” Jack grabbed Rose by the shoulders and spun her around. “But you died, the entire company burned to the ground.” His sentence carried off as he touched Rose’s face. “And yet you have Pete’s eyes and Jackie’s smile and nose. How long have you known?”

James relaxed, knowing that his friend would never hurt her. “My mother figured it out the moment she met her. She said she looked just like her mother.” He glanced around again, noting that some of the women were watching from a distance but obviously curious. “But I only told Rose last night.”

“After I snuck into your masquerade.” Rose chuckled, reaching up to pull Jacks hands away and squeeze them. “Thanks for returning my earring, by the way.”

“I thought it was you!” Jack barked out a laugh, shaking his head. “But I wasn’t sure how you’d managed to get a gown and jewelry so lavish, so I figured I was wrong.” He pulled his hands free to back up and stare at her in shock. “Why didn’t you tell me this morning when I came to your room?”

“We told her not to.” James felt guilt at not trusting his oldest friend settle in. How many times had Jack complained about his role as Prince? “I’m sorry, Jack. We weren’t sure how you’d react. As for the gown and jewelry, it was in a chest sealed with a blood spell by Queen Jacqueline. When Rose opened it, it proved her lineage.”

Jack’s face suddenly fell, as his gaze flew back out to the garden around them. “My father is returning in a week. We don’t have much time.”

“Much time for what?” James followed his gaze, seeing where more people, even some servants, had joined the crowd just out of earshot. They were whispering among themselves.

“To get the truth out and prepare for a fight.” Jack took Rose’s shoulders in his hands again and kissed her on each cheek. “I want you to know, that I always believed the rumors that he had your parents killed. That’s why I have always planned to rule more like my mother than him.”

“What if I don’t want the truth out?” Rose’s words hit James like a runaway horse. Dread pooled low in his stomach. “What if I just wanted to stick to my original plan and run away to Boeshane?” She didn’t speak loudly or harshly, but he could hear the indecision in her voice.

“Well, My Lady.” James swallowed hard as he reached over to touch her hand. “Then that’s what we’d do. We’d get you safely away.” Her eyes turned up to his, and despite the brave face she was wearing, he could see the fear and uncertainty in her eyes. “Is that what you truly want?”

Rose shook her head. “No, I just don’t like it when people make decisions for me. I couldn’t stop it before, but now I can.” Her lips turned up in a slow smile.

“And she’s already thinking like a princess.” Jack chuckled. “Okay, we need to get to work, now. Sorry, Rose, err Marion.”

“Rose, it’s my name.” She smiled softly, brushing her fingers against his. “It’s the only one I know.”

James felt a surge of relief and pride towards her. She was taking everything so well, and he clasped her fingers in his. “What do we do from here?” He knew what he would suggest, but it was not his place to interject. His job was to protect her, keep her safe.

“Take her to your mother and then meet me in the storage vault.” Jack quickly glanced around again. “Is there anyone you trust without any reservations, either of you?”

“Mickey.” Rose piped up. “He’s my best friend.”

“Donna, Amy, and Rory.” James threw their names out there, because he knew they would help. “Should we tell them.”

“Yes, but only after they are with your mother. Then grab Mickey come to me.” Jack froze mid-sentence as he glanced around again. “Also, bring your spell book and divining glass. We’re going to need them”

Understanding washed through James. The plan was perfect, almost completely fool proof, but it had to be done carefully and quickly, because if word got out, Rose would be dead before they got anything in place. “Rose, you trust me?”

“Well, your oath prevents you from intentionally harming me.” Rose caught her lip between her teeth, and the adorableness of it made he smile. He was already finding himself wrapped around her finger. “So yes.”

“Then, go ask Donna and Amy to go with you to my mum. Take Rory too, he’s a good man and will stand guard.” Jack nodded out at the onlookers. “Rose, you have to trust me on this. I know the way these people think, how they will react.”

“Jack, you’ll be my first choice in advisors.” She laughed as she said it, making James chuckle as well. “If I survive this that is.”

“You will. Now, let’s get this plan going.” Jack winked at them both. “When everything is ready, Rose, we’ll come get you.”

James nodded and took Rose’s hand. “Come on, Princess. Time to go get dressed.” He quickly steered her out of the gazebo and onto the path, ignoring the staring ladies and servants. He tried to keep his walk relaxed and easy.

“For what?” Rose whispered, squeezing his hand as they went.

“Just trust us on this.” He could feel his heart racing as he signaled Amy and Donna, who were currently standing with Rory and watching them with curious expressions, and pointed to the castle doors. The trio dodged up the path and met them as they came inside the hall.

“What’s going on?” Donna spoke first, not that he was surprised. “We saw pretty much everything, but we couldn’t hear.”

“Take Rose to my mum, and keep her there.” James tilted Rose’s chin up so he could softly taste her lips. Part of him was afraid that when this was over, their relationship would not be allowed to continue, but he fervently hoped she would not let herself be bound by the imaginary societal standards. “And wait for myself or Mickey to come and fetch you. Rory.” He turned to the soon to be knight that had worked so hard to bring himself a title that would allow him to marry Amelia. “Guard Them and my mother. There’s more at stake than you can imagine.”

Rory touched the hilt of the sword at his hip. “My loyalty is always to the good of the kingdom. I will keep them safe.”

“Hurry back to me.” Rose kissed his cheek before stepping away. Feeling the weight of what was to come in the next few hours, he turned and hurried away.

Rose watched him retreat before she turned to her new friends. “I want to tell you everything, but even I don’t know the whole story.” She swallowed hard, her stomach a knot of worry. She had come here a nobody, subjected to years of emotional abuse and neglect. Now she was in the middle of what could very well turn out to be a civil war. “Sarah Jane can explain it.”

“Speaking of my family and secrets.” Donna led the way down the hall, and Rose watched as Rory took up the read, hand resting on his sword. “My mum and grandfather arrived during lunch, as did Amelia’s mum. They are with her now. I’m guessing that has to do with this.”

Rose’s heart flipped at the thought. She had not expected them so soon, but she realized that they had probably left as soon as they got Sarah Jane’s message. “Yes, and please, don’t be angry. I only learned the truth last night.” She hoped they wouldn’t, because she did genuinely like them. They had treated her as equals, as if what society had told her was her life did not matter.

“You’re our friend.” Amy looped her arm through hers. “Of course we won’t be angry.” They had reached the Smith quarters, and Rory knocked.

“Madam Sarah Jane” he called through the wood. “I was told to bring Ladies Donna, Amelia, and Rose to you.” He tightened his grip on the hilt as the door opened, revealing Sarah Jane’s worried face.

“Hurry in, quickly.” She opened it wider, letting the three slide through. Rose looked back as the door closed, leaving Rory outside to stand watch.

“She’s the spitting image of her mother.” A grandfatherly voice drew her gaze. An older man was standing there, wearing traveling clothes and clutching a red woolen cap. Another woman, with a proud face and blonde hair in a pale blue dress was staring at her in shock as well. “Isn’t she Sylvia?”

“Apart from the eyes, she has her father’s eyes.” The woman drew a breath and swallowed before curtsying elegantly. “Your highness.”

“What?!” Donna spun as Rose bit her lip and took Sylvia, who it could only be, by the shoulders and raised her up. “What are they talking about Rose?”

“Keep your voices down.” Sarah Jane hissed. Rose shot her a look of relief. “Rose isn’t really Rose.”

At that statement Rose snorted and shook her head. “Rose is the only name I’ve known, and the name I’ll keep.” That statement made Sarah Jane smile motherly at her and touch her cheek. “I’ll take my birth name as my second name.”

“Can someone explain what’s going on?” Amelia’s lips were pursed and her arms were crossed.

“The answer is simple, Amy.” Another voice came from the direction of Sarah Jane’s bedroom, and a woman who was tall and slender like Amelia, with blonde hair pulled up in a bun, came out holding heavy book. “Rose O’brien is actually Her Royal Highness Princess Marion Tyler.”

Rose felt her cheeks flush as her friends stared at her in shock. “I’m still me.” She insisted, because she could almost feel their change in opinion of her. “I honestly didn’t know until last night.”

“Show them your shoulder.” Sarah Jane touched Rose’s arm softly. “Go on.” She turned, reaching up to push the back of her dress down to reveal the birthmark. She could feel all eyes on her.

“Marion Tyler, born April 27th, to King Peter and Queen Jacqueline Tyler, golden hair, honey eyes, paw print shaped birth mark on the left shoulder. Birth midwifed by Sarah Jane Smith and Sylvia Noble, witnessed by Tabetha Pond and Wilfred Mott.” The woman, who Rose now figured was Amelia’s mum, read the entry out loud.

“Bloody hell!” Donna’s exclamation made Rose spin around.

“Language!” Sylvia hissed, shooting her daughter a look.

“Bloody hell is right.” Wilfred laughed. “Now, why did James send you all in here.”

“Because we had to tell Jack.” Rose explained, and Sarah Jane yelped in shock. “But he believes us and says he will help.”

“Help with what?” Amelia asked, just as Rory knocked. Wilfred stepped past to open the door.

“There’s a gentleman out here named Mickey with a servant.” Rory said, blocking the door with his body. “They said they have something for Rose.”

“Bring it in.” Rose breathed a sigh of relief as her oldest friend stepped in the room with a male servant, carrying a trunk. His eyes found hers, wide and questioning.

“Is it true?” His voice sounded awe filled, but he didn’t speak the full question. The servant obviously didn’t know. Rose nodded quickly, and Mickey’s jaw dropped. “James said to, um, open this the same way you did the other, and get ready.” He bowed to the room then dragged the servant back out the door.

“Donna, could you do a spell detection on this please?” Sarah Jane gestured at the chest.

Rose watched as her friend stepped forward and waved her hand over the massive chest. “Blood spell.” Donna mused, her hands glowing slightly blue. “About twenty years old or so. Set in place by Jacqueline Tyler.” She stepped back, and arched an eyebrow at Rose.

Hands shaking, Rose knelt beside the chest and grabbed the two lockless latches in her hands. She felt the metal cut her fingers quickly, and she stepped back. Just like before the blood acted as a key, and the latches flipped open.

“It’s true.” Amelia shook her fiery hair in wonder. “I can’t believe it.” Her face fell. “Rassilon is not going to like this.”

“Which is why we have to get the truth out before he returns.” Sylvia stepped forward and pulled the lid to the trunk up. “Your Highness, it’s time to show the world who you really are.” Rose stared down at the contents of the trunk, and She knew that taking this step would mean her life would never be the same. She ignored the voice of insecurity screaming at her to run, knowing that it was the cowards way, and reached inside to pull out her birthright.


	9. Memories and Oaths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it was so long. I had to get it all out.

Rose stared at the looking glass, feeling as if the world around her had dissolved into something from a dream. She trailed her fingers along the teal silk of her gown and swallowed hard. At the masquerade, she had looked like a story book princess. Now, though, she looked like something else entirely.

Donna gave the large pink ribbons of the corset back a final tug, and Amy added the last pin to the simple, yet elegant, twist of her hair. “Perfect” they agreed in synchrony.

“Mickey’s here.” Sarah Jane poked her head in the room, and Rose saw the tears well in her eyes. “I’m sorry, it’s just you look so much like them.” She stepped aside to let Donna and Amy pass out if the room.

Rose swallowed hard and held out her hand to the woman who had shown her more motherly kindness in three days than the woman who raised her had in a lifetime. Sarah Jane took it and pulled her into a hug, which was a difficult feat given the size of Rose’s dress. “I’m terrified.” She whispered into her ear. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Oh, Rose. Your mother was terrified of being queen too, but that’s what makes a good Queen.” She squeezed Rose gently and sniffled a bit. “The day you think you have it all figured out, that you don’t need help, is the day you are no longer fit to rule.”

“Did my mum say that?” Rose blinked back her own tears as Sarah Jane pulled back and touched the underside of her chin lightly. It occurred to Rose at that moment, that Sarah Jane finding her again was probably like an mother finding a long lost child. After all, she had been the one to pull her into the world, to first see her face, to first place her in her mother’s arms. She had probably rocked and bathed and clothed her.

“Your father, actually, the advice he gave to Jackie on their coronation day.” Sarah Jane pulled her hands away and wiped her eyes.

A thought, while related but not exactly pertinent to the conversation came to Rose’s mind. “Sarah Jane, if I had been raised here at the castle. James would have been sworn to me from my fifteenth birthday, as a protector.” Sarah Jane nodded slightly. “Would my parents have approved of what has been growing between us.”

“He was only five when you were born, but because his father was sworn to yours, he was constantly under their feet.” She gave a sad chuckle and drew a breath. “Jackie used to sneak him sweets when she thought I wasn’t looking.”

That was confirmation enough for Rose. “He’s waiting for me.”

“They all are, my Lady.” She stepped aside to let Rose move into the seating area. Everyone was gone, except Rory who was waiting in the hall.

“My Lady Rose” He bowed once to Rose. “Madam Sarah Jane, I am to take you through the one of the hidden corridors.” With a quick look down the hall, he led the way.

Everything was utterly empty, so quiet that Rose could hear her heart pounding in her ears. They came to a halt beside a glass case displaying some animal heads and pelts, and he pushed it to the side. It exposed a short opening in the wall, that they had to duck to get into, but then he grabbed a handle on the back of the case and it slid back into place. Rose was able to stand, but everything was pitch black.

“Keep walking straight ahead, until you see a light coming through a grating.” Sarah Jane told her.

Rose did her best to control her breathing, feeling the darkness around her like a tangible enemy. Still, with a resolve she didn’t fully comprehend, she strode forward. It felt like an eternity before a small light, no bigger than a hand, was visible. When she reached it, she peered through the grating. It was some sort of study or office. She felt along the wall until she found a lever, and the wall in front if her slid open.

“Jack’s study.” Sarah Jane advised her, as they stepped inside.

“Wait.” Rory cracked the door and peeked out, then he waved them forward.

They were in another hall and through the window Rose could see the gardens. That meant they were behind the throne room. Rory moved towards a single door in the middle of the wall, and cracked it open. He stuck his head in and then turned to place a finger over his lips. Then he ushered them inside.

Rose recognized the backside if the massive curtains that hung behind the throne, and from the other side she could hear a crowd of people chattering and moving about. Fear gripped her heart, and she clung to Sarah Janes hand.

“His Royal Highness, Jack Harkness-Tyler.” James’ voice called out, and the crowd fell silent.

James could slightly feel Rose’s worry the instant she had entered the throne room. The longer he spent with her, the more he realized that his body was becoming tuned to her negative emotions. It was slight, like a breath against his own consciousness. He knew it was hers, because it did not come from him.

He stood at his normal place, one step below the thrones and to the right. The crowd grew silent as he made his way up the steps, dressed in his normal princely attire. The only thing out of place that said this was not a normal announcement was the table set where Jack’s throne normally sat and an easel with a covered portrait. The table held a chest, his own diving mirror, a decanter of blessed oil, a blank bit if parchment, his spell book, and a quill and ink.

He watched, every part of his body tense and ready to act should their plan not succeed. It was a dangerous game they were playing. He met Jack’s eyes, and his friend nodded before squaring his shoulders and speaking.

“Ladies and gentleman, guards and soldiers of the crown, loyal citizens of Powell, I know you must all be wondering why I gathered you all here so late in the evening.” Jack’s voice carried out across the packed throne room. Everyone had been brought in, except the sentries at the wall and gates. “Well, this is a momentous, miraculous, glorious, and unexpected moment.”

A low whispering began, and James saw some of the potential brides begin to look eager and clutch at each others hands. “Now, now, settle down.” James had to admire the humorous, yet firm, way that Jack had with bringing people to order. It was night and day in comparison to Rassilon’s cold commanding presence. “Many of you here remember my uncle And aunt, King Peter and Jacqueline Tyler.”

“May they rest in peace.” James echoed the crowd in the customary response to the mention of their names. Taking his cue, he climbed the last step to the easel and placed his hand on the heavy black cloth covering it.

“Many of you, however, never had the opportunity to meet or get to know their daughter, Princess Marion Tyler.” Jack nodded to James, and he pulled the cloth away to expose the painting. “Because she was only eight months old the night her parents and the royal escorts were brutally murdered in the forest.” At the sight of the painting, the crowd gave a soft gasp. “This painting hung in the Royal Nursery for only a week, meant to be a welcome home gift for their return after announcing my cousin’s birth.”

It was an oil painting of the royal family. King Peter stood proudly behind a chair, his hands resting on his wife’s shoulders. Queen Jacqueline was holding a tiny infant to her breast, staring down at her with affection. The blanket, a soft pink color, had fallen away as the baby reached up to touch her mother’s face, and the paw print birthmark was a rich brown against the ivory color of her skin.

“Like all paintings here in the castle, a preservation spell was placed on it, to prevent age and weather from diminishing its beauty.” Jack turned away from the painting to look out at the crowd. “Is any of you here experienced in magick?”James held his breath, because this was key. Someone besides himself, his mother, or grandfather needed to confirm the spell work and who cast it.

“I am, Your highness.” A woman, who James recognized as a successful merchant from town, stepped forward. She was about his age, dark of skin, with a pretty face and confident stance. “My name is Martha Jones.”

“Would you be willing to come up here and perform a detection spell for me.” Jack inclined his head to her as she curtsied and made her way up the steps. “I need to know who cast the spell and when.”

“Of course, your Highness.” Martha stepped next to James, and he offered her an encouraging smile. She held out her hand, and it glowed a beautiful silver color. After a moment the glow faded, and she lowered her hand. “The protection spell was cast by a Harriet Jones, December, twenty years ago.”

“Thank you.” Jack gestured to the chest on the table. “And what of this?”

James felt his heart pound as Martha moved over and hovered her hand over the chest. It glowed silver again, and she swallowed before pulling her hand back. “A blood spell, performed by Harriet Jones, July, twenty years ago. With a safe guard that only her blood or or the blood of a descendant of King Peter and Queen Jacqueline ” She turned back to Jack, and with his nod of thanks she descended the steps to rejoin the crowd.

“Now, who of you here remembers who Harriet Jones was?” Jack clasped his hands behind his back, as a voice called out, and to James and Jack’s surprise, it was Reinette.

“She was the head of the Royal Treasury under King Peter and Queen Tyler, your Highness.” Reinette looked proud of her answer. “But she was removed from the position by King Rassilon for the theft and removal of Royal Household Objects, executed for conspiracy of treason against King Rassilon, and was replaced by Harold Saxon under King Rassilon’s command.”

“Thank you for that gracious information, Lady Reinette.” Jack’s lips twisted up into a smirk, and James bit his lip to keep from laughing at the sarcasm that dripped from his words. “Now, many of you here have witnessed that Lady Reinette was accompanied by a Rose O’brien, and it is common knowledge that she and her mother have no love for Rose. They have treated her with disdain and contempt as nothing more than an outcast turned indentured servant since the death of Lord Martin O’brien. Is this true?” Voices called out agreements, from both service staff and the few members of the counsel. “Good. Remember that.” Jack cleared his throat and drew a deep breath. He then signaled to James.

James moved towards the curtain behind the throne, and paused with his hands on the curtain. He could hear the three people behind the curtain, and he could sense Rose’s anxiety and fear ratchet up.

“Now, you may all be wondering why this is important. Why these two artifacts, the locations of which I actually discovered in a hidden and secluded diary buried in an old wicker basket in the stable attic about three years ago, are important. Well, I shall tell you.” Jack brought his hands back in front of him and clasped them together. “Three days ago, when Lady Reinette arrived with her ‘handmaiden’ Rose O’brien.” He unclasped his hands and made air quotes at the word handmaiden. “I decreed that Rose would be treated as a guest that her father’s bloodline dictated, not a handmaiden. I did not know then how wrong I was.”

James saw Reinette stand up a bit straighter, her face the image of perfect, smug satisfaction. He caught her eye and raised a brow at her with a smirk. Her eyebrows narrowed in distaste, making him smile as wide as he could. He was so going to enjoy watching her reaction the most, almost as much as he would Rassilon’s.

“You see, my father kept very few of the old castle staff on when he took the throne: Madam Sarah Jane Smith, the royal midwife and nanny, Wilfred Mott, the National Historian, Sir James Smith, who was five at the time but already chosen to be a royal magician and blood sworn protector of the heir to the throne, and the high counsel all remained.” At this, Wilfred, Sylvia, and Tabetha moved forward to stand at the front of the crowd. “But you, therein lies my father’s error. He could not have foreseen Rose coming to the castle, nor could he have foreseen her meeting Sarah Jane and James Smith. Because, my good people, Rose O’brien is not Rose O’brien. She is, in all actuality, Her Royal Highness Princess Marion Tyler.”

At his words, James pulled back the curtain, and gasped in wonder at Rose. She was in a floor length gown made of teal lace, tulle, and satin. The bodice hung to her torso, accentuating her waist up to her breasts in a elegant and refined manner, decorated in intricate lace designs that came up to her shoulders and down her arms to her elbows. The skirts were a wide creamy pink satin covered in teal tulle, forming a small train behind her. He could see the ends of the pink satin that must have been the corset strings of the dress just a bit as she took his hand. Her hair hair been swept up high, out of her face, and her makeup had been applied softly and modestly, just enough to accent her eyes and cheeks with a soft pink tinted balm on her lips.

Rose felt nauseous as the light from the room hit her eyes. She could hear the outbursts of shock, wonder, and disbelief as James led her from behind the curtain to stand next to her cousin Jack. Her eyes adjusted, and she saw the packed throne room before her. She had heard everything that was being said, and now that she was out her, her heart was pounding so hard she felt light headed.

“Madam Sarah Jane, if you would please join Sir Wilfred, Lady Tabetha, and Lady Sylvia.” Jack gave a respectful bow as he gestured to where the trio was standing. “And please read to the crowd the certified recorded data from the birthing room of Queen Jaqueline Tyler.”

Rose did her best to stand still and keep her face composed and relaxed. She felt James release her hand and step away. She let her gaze travel over the faces, finding first Donna and Amelia smiling, and then a few bodies over, Reinette. The woman she had always believed to be her sister looked somewhere between outraged, terrified, and in utter shock. Others were covering their mouths, and some of the older members of the service staff and city citizens looked as if they had seen a ghost.

“Marion Tyler, born April 27th, to King Peter and Queen Jacqueline Tyler, golden hair, honey eyes, paw print shaped birth mark on the left shoulder. Birth midwifed by Sarah Jane Smith and Sylvia Noble, witnessed by Tabetha Pond and Wilfred Mott.” Sarah Jane’s voice rang out over the whispering crowd.

“As you can see, the woman we thought as Rose O’brien has golden hair and honey eyes.” Jack smiled confidently as he held out his white gloved hand to her. “Dear cousin, if you would pleas turn and show them your birthmark.” Knowing that this could very well result in a dagger or arrow to the back, Rose placed her hand and trust into the cousin she had only so recently reunited with. She felt him close his fingers over hers, and with a gentle pressure he helped her turn. She knew her entire back, from the edge of one shoulder to the other, was visible. The whispering, strangled gasps, and shifting of bodies grew louder.

“There will be silence in the Throne Room!” Rory’s normally reserved voice cut through the din, and the crowd grew quiet. “Thank you.” His friendly tone had returned, and Rose saw James choke back a laugh from the corner of her eye.

Jack turned her back around, raising her knuckles to his lips for a respectful kiss. “Thank you, Your Highness.” He lowered, but did not release, her hand as he faced the crowd once more. She squeezed his fingers, letting him know she was grateful for the support he was lending her, because her knees felt nearly ready to give out. “I was seven when my Aunt and Uncle were taken from us, but I remember their faces. See how this woman bears their resemblance. There is no mistaking that she is indeed their daughter. However, we have arranged these final steps to show us the truth.” Jack stepped away from her towards the table, and she followed him.

Rose watched as James stepped to the table as well, and she met his eyes. His smile was confident, adoring, and comforting all at once, and she felt the knot in her stomach lessen just a bit. For a moment she wondered what it would have been like to grow up with him, to have seen that smile every day of her life, to feels the years of trust, friendship, and eventually love bloom, and then she felt angry at the fact that it had been robbed from her for so long. The anger replaced the anxiety, and it filled her with a cool resolve that she would do this, fix the loss that had been at her uncle’s hands.

“This box was bound by blood spell so that only a direct descendant of King Peter and Queen Jacqueline may open it.” Jack released her hand. “Who would be brave enough to step forward and test it?”

“I will.” Donna’s voice echoed out, but Jack held up a hand.

“Noble Lady Donna, my fiery fiancée, I need someone who is not friendly or has never met the woman called Rose O’brien, to test it.”

“I’ll do it, mi’lord.” Rose watched as a sandy haired boy of about nine with villager clothes and dirt on his cheek step forward and bow. Jack waved him up, and he scurried forward. She gave him an encouraging smile, and he gripped the latches on the box. They did not move. “Won’t open.” He shrugged before scurrying back to his mother.

“Anybody else?” Jack’s voice posed the question innocently enough. Four more volunteers stepped forward: a woman wearing cooks clothing, a guard in bulky armor, an elderly man who smelled of leather tanning chemicals, and the black haired Lady who had snickered at Rose just that morning with Reinette. Each, of course, failed to open the latches. “Now, my Lady, if you would please.”

Rose drew a breath, raising her hands up to grip the latches. She felt the familiar bite of the metal piercing her skin, and she pulled her fingers back to show the blood dripping to the latches. Jack handed her a kerchief he had pulled from his sleeve, and she wiped her fingers clean. The already quiet room grew even more silent, creating a palpable blanket of only their missing breaths as the blood pooled onto the latches, and the click of them opening echoed like ice on a pond cracking in the thaw. She grasped the lid, pulled it open, and lowered her hands to her side as she stepped back.

The contents made her throat tighten and her eyes prickle with tears. There were two crowns settled atop a fur pelt. One was a burnished gold, set with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds, molded into imposing points shaped as dragons. The other was an elegant silver, that came up into a swooping arch, set with so many diamonds that it seemed to radiate it’s own light. There was only one thing they could be, hidden away from Rassilon, and that was her parent’s formal crowns, the ones they would have worn for their coronation, for official ceremonies, and other such things.

“The blood spell shows the truth of the matter.” Jack’s voice made her turn away from the treasures before her and back to him and the crowd of people. “Rose O’brien is, in fact, Princess Marion Tyler.” This time there was no gasps of shock or whispers of uncertainty.

Instead, Lady Sylvia spoke up. “So the only mystery remaining is how the Princess survived such a brutal attack and came to be in the O’brien household.”

“I am so glad you asked that, Lady Noble.” Jack nodded to James. “Luckily, Sir James is not only gifted in magic for purposes of defense, but he also is quite adept at magic with memories.” Rose had to admit hat was a polite way of saying he could read minds. “But the ritual of unlocking memories from such a young age can be painful, and I cannot ask the Princess to subject herself to it.”

“I’ll do it!” Rose finally spoke, and she didn’t even think before she did. She wanted to know, no matter how painful. She turned quickly to James. “I’ll do it. I don’t care if it hurts. I don’t care if it kills me. I need to know why. We all need to know why. Please.”

James met her eyes and exhaled heavily. “I need two strong men or women to support her.” Immediately Rory stepped forward as did a guard from the back of the room.

“Your Highness.” They both bowed at the waist. “We will not let you falter.” The other guard spoke.

“Thank you, both.” She forced her voice to remain even and calm. She held out her arms out in front of her, and they each placed their arms around her waist to support her.

“Rose, you cannot yell or jerk or pull away.” James stroked her cheek with one hand before she nodded. She watched as he clenched his jaw and turned back to the table to lift the oval mirror the size of her torso up. “This will show them what we are seeing.” She grasped it in her hands, marveling at how the surface was warm instead of cool. “Don’t worry about dropping it. The magic will bind it to your hands.” He then opened his spell book up to a page in a language she couldn’t read, and then picked up the silver dagger on the table. “Close your eyes and breathe.”

Rose did as she was instructed, letting her eyes flutter shut and keeping her breathing even. She almost yelped when she felt the cool metal of the dagger press against her scalp just at her hairline, but she swallowed it and squeezed her eyes tighter and began counting her breaths on a four second in and four second out measure. Then she felt the cut. It stung, like a thorn dragging across her skin, and she felt the warmth of her blood begin to trickle out. She ignored it, wondering what the point by stiff touch was next, and she realized it must be the quill. She wanted to open her eyes to see, but then James’ hands cupped her cheeks and he began to speak.

“Oculus puer mos veritatem revelare. Cogitare retro in nocte tua familia perierat. Memento omnes vos audivit et vidit. Ostende nobis memoria praeteritorum.” His words washed over her mind with a seductive warmth, and then suddenly everything went dark.

Rose felt as if every fiber of her being was being torn inward on herself. The pain was excruciating, and she wanted nothing more than to scream. Some part of her told her she could not move or scream or react to the pain. So she bottled it deep inside of her and then the pain blazed brighter. It shot straight into her heart and up to the center of her skull, pulling her deep. Then, the pain peeled away the darkness and she felt so tiny. She didn’t know how she could feel so small and yet burn in such enormous agony, but she did. As the darkness fell away, like rotten bark on a fallen tree, a hazy vision came to the forefront.

It was dark, for the most part, but there was a flicker of oil lamps and candles. Something warm was wrapped around her, which was odd considering the way she felt as if she was being scorched. A woman’s face came into focus, framed by long blonde hair. It was her face, but older, fuller, with different eyes. The woman smiled and brushed her cheeks with a finger before moving away. All that was visible now was the red material far over her head. She wasn’t afraid, but she turned her eyes and gazed around, as the woman moved to a bed where a man lay sleeping. Everything felt quiet, peaceful, as she could hear the chirp of crickets and the nicker of horses nearby.

Suddenly, the sounds grew silent. She still wasn’t afraid though, because she knew she was safe. Then, a new man entered her sight. He was tall, with short sandy hair, wearing all black. He passed her without looking, and proceed to pick up a pillow and cover the sleeping man’s face. The sleeping man struggled, trying to punch and hit the man in black, but soon he grew limp. The smiling woman was awake now, scrambling for a sword that was sitting on a table. The man in black drew his own sword and smashed the pommel into her temple twice. She, too, fell limp and unmoving. The man in black grabbed an oil lamp and threw it down, then another, and another. Heavy smoke filled the tent, and it was so hard to breathe. Now she was scared. She cried, trying to kick free of her blankets. The woman didn’t move. She cried again, and this time the man in black returned.

He was covering his face against the smoke, but when his green eyes met hers he lowered his hand and swore. “Damn it Rassilon. You didn’t say there was a child.” He looked around before reaching in and picking her up. He carried her out of the smoke into the cool fresh air and settled her in some soft grass by a tall horse. Then he disappeared. She was hungry now, and her chest hurt from the smoke. She whimpered softly, and the man came back. His face was uncovered now, visible in the fire beyond him. It was the man she would grow to call Father.

“Non plus opus est.” Like a rushing wave, the words quenched the flames and the agony in Rose’s body. Her eyes flew wide, and she let out a ragged, wordless cry.

She watched as James wrenched his hands away, his face thick with sweat and tears pouring down his cheeks. He leaned on the table gasping for breath and clutching his head. Then Rose realized she was not upright of her own accord. Her legs felt boneless, and Rory and the other guard were saying her name in a confused jumble of “Rose, Princess Marion.”

Rose found her feet, letting her legs gradually bare her weight. “I can stand.” She croaked, tasting her own tears on her lips. “I can stand. I’m fine.” James came back into sight as he took the mirror from her and laid it on the table. Slowly, Rory and the guard loosened the grips and let her stand on her own. Jack’s cheeks were damp, as he took the already bloody kerchief and wiped her brow clean. “Thank you Jack.”

“I’m so, so sorry.” He whispered, pulling the now stained kerchief away. Then he turned, and Rose saw that almost everyone had tears in their eyes. Some were clutching their children, two older women and one of the high counsel members had fainted. She wondered if it had seemed as horrible as it felt. She licked her lips to keep them from sticking, and found Reinette. She looked completely and utterly horrified, her fair skin completely drained of color, clenching the skirts of her gown.

“We have seen the truth.” Jack’s voice barely wavered as he spoke out. “Do any here refute the validity of what has transpired?” No one objected, and Rose wasn’t sure whether to be thankful or afraid. “Then there is only one decision left to make.” He turned to the chest on the table and gently picked up Rose’s mother’s crown. “We here, having born witness to the treasons actions of Rassilon Tyler, and being confirmed in the presence of the high counsel, have a question of you, Rose.”

“What is the question, Prince Jack?” She wondered how her voice sounded so regal and confident when inside she felt so burned and broken.

“Do you solemnly swear to rule the Kingdom of Powell with humanity, compassion, and loyalty? To strive every waking hour to ensure that the decisions you make are for the will and good of the people?” Jack’s voice carried, firm, and confident.

“I do so solemnly swear.” Rose let her eyes drag across them all to show she did. She saw Sarah Jane’s tear soaked cheeks, but she was smiling.

“Then, by the right of birth and blood, as witness by the one hundred and eighty-seven present, we do name the Her Majesty Rose Marion Tyler, Queen of Powell.” Jack settled the crown onto her head, and Rose felt the slight weight spread down to her shoulders and chest as she realized that she now carried the weight of the kingdom. Jack stepped back his side to the crowd, reached up, removed his own circlet from his head, and knelt with his head bowed.

Rose drew a breath as everyone present followed suit, even James. She blinked back tears before finding her voice. “Please, all of you, rise.” Everyone turned upright expect Jack, who was still kneeling with his own crown in his fingers. “Prince Jack, please rise.”

“I cannot.” Jack’s voice was soft, heavy with a tone she did not recognize. “Not until I do this.” He held up his crown over his head as an offering to her. “I, Prince Jack Harkness-Tyler, do herby renounce myself as the son of Rassilon Tyler, the usurper, renounce my claim to the throne, and pledge myself to her Majesty Rose Marion Tyler.”

For a moment Rose was confused, but then she realized what this meant. He was raised by the usurper, and by all right Rose could have him arrested or executed for the treasons he had unwittingly committed until today. She drew herself to her full height before speaking. “Jack Harkness-Tyler, you have committed no treason against the people of Powell. You have performed your duties with a fair hand and a kind heart.” Rose reached down and plucked his circlet from his hands. “And for that I name you Prince Jack Harkness, and declare you heir to the throne if I should die before I marry and produce an heir of my blood. I also name you my first advisor and right hand. Do you accept?”

“I do, your Majesty.” Jack’s voice was solemn, and she smiled at the seriousness of it.

Rose placed the circlet back on his head and touched his cheek. “Then rise, Prince Jack, free of your father’s name, to start a life that is yours.” Jack looked up before standing. “What do I do now?” She hissed under her breath as the room burst into applause.

“I already ordered the kitchen to prepare a feast for all guests. You just send everyone else home.” Jack whispered back with a smile.

“Ladies and gentlemen, citizens of Powell. I encourage you now to go and spread the word, celebrate what you have seen here today, and know that my love goes with you.” With a resounding cheer from the crowd, Rose felt herself pulled back to the curtain by Rory, James, and Jack. Once they were out of sight, she did the one thing she’d wanted to do since she walked in. She threw her arms around James and pulled him down for a passionate, unshakable kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s Dress](https://www.dhresource.com/0x0s/f2-albu-g2-M01-77-68-rBVaG1Y-0RWAPu-KAALMpRYSQpc939.jpg/new-elegant-teal-lace-ball-gown-quinceanera.jpg)   
>  [Rose’s/Jackie’s crown](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/04/9b/72/049b7294dbbdbd0e75904d1b6cc19dd0--tiaras-and-crowns-royal-tiaras.jpg)   
>  [Pete’s Crown](http://www.midrealm.org/regalia/cpg133/albums/upload/normal_1110d.jpg)


	10. Creating her counsel

James clutched at Rose’s waist, sighing shakily as he pulled away from her lips to gaze down at her. He had warned her that the ritual would be painful, but he hadn’t told her that he would feel the pain as well. He still felt achy, a knot in his stomach clenching at the fact that he had to put her through that agony. He saw blood still trickling sluggishly from the thin line he had drawn in her skin, and raised his thumb to it. “Sanare vulnus.” He smiled as the skin and veins underneath knitted back together without leaving a scar.

“Thank you.” Rose smiled as she released him and leaned against the wall. Then she clenched at her stomach. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“I’ve got it!” Sarah Jane appeared, like his mother always seemed to do, out of thin air carrying a bowl. She had it under Rose’s face just in time.

“How’d you know?” James asked, rubbing Rose’s back as Jack pulled Rory aside and began whispering furiously.

“I watched your father perform the ritual three times, so that King Peter could make a just decision on how to handle various criminals.” She smiled at Rose and passed her a piece of cloth to wipe her mouth. “I’ll give her credit. They all lost their stomachs immediately.”

“Hooray for me.” Rose groaned, as she steadied herself. “So, what now, Jack?”

James watched as Jack clapped Rory on the shoulder, and the man hurried away. “Right, so, we need to send messages out to all the lords and ladies. Most have magicians that can use scrying glasses, but some will need to be delivered by bird or by messenger.”

James looped his arm through Rose’s as she nodded. “Right, okay. I need somewhere to sit and write.”

“My study is right through here.” Jack opened the door, and James escorted Rose through and to the desk. “The high counsel is also going to want to meet. There are only three that I would keep, but the rest should be replaced as quickly as possible. They did not reject you, but most are loyal to my father.”

“Jack, you summon them, dismiss the ones you distrust, and replace them with yourself and others you deem trustworthy.” Rose drew a breath as she looked up at her cousin. As painful and nerve racking as the ceremony was, it suddenly seemed easy. “Where was your father last reported?”

“He was due in Rivervale this morning, so about a six day ride with his company at their fastest speed.” Jack frowned slightly as a knock at the door interrupted. “Who is it?!”

“Wilfred.” The man’s voice called through the door. “I brought the scroll from the table.”

“I almost forgot.” Rose blinked as James rushed to the door. “Thanks Grandad.” She watched as a scroll exchanged hands.

“Your mother wants to know if the Queen needs anything, or if she should go tend to making sure the castle is cleared out except those visiting here.” Wilf spoke to James as he was taking up the doorway.

Rose loved how efficient she was at everything, and an idea sprung to her head. “Wilfred, tell her to do that, but as soon as she is finished, to come find us in the Counsel room.” She watched as he turned to go. “And Wilf, please call me Rose.”

“Of course.” The old man’s face lit up and he hurried away.

“Okay, I’m going to go do something I’ve been longing to do.” Jack clapped his hands together and flashed Rose a smile. “I’ll be back as soon as possible.” He followed after Wilf with a look of wicked glee on his face.

She sighed as James closed the door, and then she reached up and pulled the crown off of her head. “I have absolutely no idea what I’m doing.” It was true. Just days past she was folding sheets and carrying breakfast trays. Now she was responsible for an entire country.

“One step at a time.” James grabbed a chair and pulled it over next to her, and she rested her head on his shoulder briefly. She finally managed to smile as he kissed the top of her head. “Here, I’ll tell you what to say, and you write it. We’ll have to use the generic Royal seal until your own can be cast.”

Rose sat up straight and pulled a stack of parchment towards her. Then she picked up a quill and opened a bottle of ink. She swallowed hard, thankful for his support as she repeated back his words and wrote. “I, Her Majesty, Rose Marion Tyler, Queen of Powell, Marked by the Wolf, do formally declare Rassilon Tyler, the false king and usurper, wanted for treason most high. It has been recorded that he is responsible for the deaths of King Peter Tyler and Queen Jacqueline Prentice-Tyler. All who aid or abet him will be found equally guilty and share in his fate.” She signed it, set the quill aside, and sprinkled sand on the ink to dry it.

“Now, that one will go to the Royal guard for them to issue to each region’s lawmen.” James explained, as he slid her another page. “These will go to each of the Lords or Ladies that are in charge of the regions.”

Rose picked up the quill again waiting for him to speak. “Your presence is requested by Her Majesty, Rose Marion Tyler, Queen of Powell. You are to report to the Capitol immediately in order to reaffirm the oaths of allegiance you pledged to the late King Peter and Queen Jacqueline, her parents. Should you fail to appear, you will be forthwith stripped of all titles and lands.” Again, she signed it and scattered sand to dry it. “Now, only a dozen or so more to do.”

To her surprise and relief, James chuckled and shook his head. “No, I can help here.” He placed one hand on the parchment and the other on a blank page. He whispered something so quickly that Rose couldn’t catch it, and the words appeared on the blank page. He repeated this process until there was enough to be sent to every estate. “See, you can keep me around for more than just my humor and good looks.” He flashed her a silly smile, and she tapped his forearm playfully.

“Thank you, James. Really, if it weren’t for you I’d be halfway to Boeshane by now.” It was true. She was also thankful for him showing her the truth of her past. Rose went to work rolling the messages up, tying them with twine, and sealing them with the Royal Sigil. “Let’s get these sent, and when the Counsel convenes we can contact those with scrying mirrors.”

“You want to make my mother part of the high counsel.” James mused, as he lifted her crown and set it back on her hair. “She won’t want the job.”

Rose took his hand, as he offered it, and let him help her to her feet. “Well, I’ll ask her to just fill in until I can find someone I trust.” She raised an eyebrow at him. James was intelligent, quick witted, well versed on protocols and etiquette, and knew the inner workings of the politics better than anyone except perhaps Jack. “Like you, maybe.”

“I think you could find someone more suited.” James chuckled and shook his head. “My position is very clear. I’m your blood sworn protector. That’s my job, full time.” He scooped up the scrolls and crossed to the door to open it.

“I have a feeling you’re going to need a raise.” Rose was surprised it was so easy to banter with the way the world was turning upside down. She beamed at him as he snorted in amusement and shook his head. He let her pass, walking one half step behind her to her right. “No, up here with me. We need to establish something right now.”

“What is that, your Grace.” His eyebrow arched as he moved up to walk pace with her. Honestly if he didn’t cut out the intentional use of titles, she was going to slap him.

“Unless it is a formal event, just treat me the same as before.” Rose rolled her eyes as they rounded a corner.

A guard, wearing a red and white cloak versus the usual white of the guards was approaching. He stopped in his tracks, bowed at his waist, before rising up to speak. “Your Grace, I am Sir Jake Simmonds, formerly the assistant head of the royal guard.”

“Um, well met Jake.” Rose shot James a side glance, and he nodded to confirm the information. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

Somewhere behind him a woman screamed and the sound of something shattering echoed down the hall. “Yes, well about that. Sir Jimmy Stone, the late head of the royal guard, called eight of us into a room to conspire to kill you.” He grimaced as the sound of more screaming occurred and the heavy thud of boots began echoing. “I was the only one who refused, and the only way I was able to leave was to kill them all.”

Rose blinked in shock, but quickly recovered. “James, verify his statement quickly please.” As James stepped forward to grab Jake’s arm. They touched for only a moment before James stepped back and nodded. “Congratulations, Sir Jake Simmonds, You’ve just been promoted to head of my royal guard. This is for you.” She held out the warrant for Rassilon’s arrest. “I’m sure you know what to do.”

Jake looked like he’d been hit with a shovel and took the paper from her hands. Only now did she see that the red on his cloak was blood. “Thank you, your Grace. I’ll get this sent out immediately.” He bowed again before turning away.

“Oh and Jake, thank you.” She called after him. Jake turned around and smiled slightly before resuming his retreat. “James, we should send someone to check on him later.”

“I will personally.” He reassured her, before gesturing ahead. “As for our conversation prior, I’ll stop using your titles when you stop blushing when I say them, my Queen.” James grin was mischievous, and Rose was glad for this single moment amidst the insanity.

They walked together up the hallway towards where all of the commotion was coming from. Rory was coming from a room accompanied by the guard who had helped hold her up. “My Lady, there’s been an incident. Sir Stone-“

“And seven others were murdered. Yes.” Rose nodded quickly, needing to get moving to deliver the messages. “They were plotting to kill me, and Sir Jake Simmonds did not like that idea very much.”

“Jake, did, th-“ Rory looked over his shoulders and blew out a breath. “I assume he has been promoted from assistant commander of the royal guard to commander?” Rose nodded, biting her lower lip as she did. “Right, good, so um, Sir Michael and I will just take care of this then.” He ducked back into the room

“Sir Michael Lightwood is the knight he has squired under since he was ten.” James whispered quickly in her ear, and she was again mentally blessing him for being there.

“Sir Michael, When this is done, make sure Rory here is in his best armor for the feast. We are now short eight guards, and I think we shall need to forward his knighting ceremony from the summer to this evening.” Rose smiled at the knight.

“I look forward to it, your Grace.” Michael then went back into the room with Rory.

“Okay, so, now we really need to get these out.” James took her by the arm and led her down the hall to a flight of stairs. That led to the rookery. They worked together, tying the messages to be sent by raven and owl to their respective bird. Then he led her down back halls to where the messengers quarters were. Once that was finished, he led her back to her room.

“What are we doing here?” Rose asked, but James sighed.

“You need to change.” Amy and Donna emerged from her closet, and James felt relief course through him. Of course his mother would have banded them into helping.

He barely felt irritation roiling from Rose at her third outfit change of the day. “You cannot eat in that dress, and you haven’t had a bite since lunch. Plus, dealing with the high counsel, you need to look like a powerful queen and not a recently coronated princess.”

“Well my wardrobe isn’t exactly dripping in silks and satins, all right?” Rose crossed her arms and sighed.

“Not yet anyways.” Amy pulled Rose towards the ensuite. “James, wait out here and let us work out magic hm.”

With her in control of his cousin and friend, James went to work around her room. First he set protective spells around her windows. If anyone tried to fire an arrow, throw a dagger, or break in they would be met with a nasty shock. He cast the same around her doors. If he could have it his way, she’d be sleeping in one of the higher rooms, where the entries and exits were more secure. That, however, would have to wait.

James hurried over to his quarters, opened the wall case containing the few weapons he owned. He never cared for them himself, preferring to use his magic, but he had been trained the same as any of the royal guard. So, he kept an array of smaller blades, a cross bow, and two swords. He pulled out one of the daggers that he wore when he accompanied Jack into the city. It was the length of his forearm, in a black sheath with runic engravings designed to be worn around the waist. Then he headed back to Rose’s room.

She was just coming out, wearing the same green gown she’d worn to lunch, but looking entirely different than she had then. The simple updo was gone, replaced by her hair being pulled back into a plait, and the plait was adorned with black ribbon like a corset. Her soft makeup had been removed so that Amy was able to contour her cheekbones, jawline, and nose giving her a more regal and proud look. The light pink tint on her lips was now blood red, painted to perfection so that the stood out from her fair skin, and her eyes had been heavily lined and shadowed with silvers and greens to give her a more serious, piercing gaze. They had taken away the elegant jeweled necklace and earrings, and in their place were single black diamond studs and a black metal choker with a small emerald set directly center of her throat. Her crown was still in place, making it all come together. Simply put, James thought she looked confident and powerful.

“That looks, wow.” He knew he was gawking, but he didn’t care. When her cheeks flushed red, he knew that was exactly the response she needed. “I brought this. Have you ever been trained on weaponry?” He held up the dagger for her to see.

Rose responded by reaching out to pull the dagger from the sheath. Her father, well now she knew was actually her parents’ murderer, had taught her how to use a both a blade and a bow. She and Mickey often sparred together, so they could each keep their skills to par and to pass the time when they were in between chores. It had been a few months since she had touched any weapon, but her hands remembered how to flip, twirl, stab, and parry. She executed these movements swiftly, before catching the blade in her hand to offer the hilt back to him.

“Right then.” James’ blinked at her before sticking it back into the sheath and tying it around her waist. “Keep this on you at all times.”

“Thanks, right, so feast first or high counsel?” Rose felt ready to go. Despite all her years mocking people like Reinette for focusing so hard on appearances, she was beginning to understand the reasoning. Dressed up like this, with a dagger on her hip, she felt more confident, more like she could in fact be a queen. She had friends and one family member who would be there to help her develop into this new role.

“Eat first.” James cut in, and she could see the obvious concern in his eyes. “Not only do you need to fill your stomach, but you also need to show everyone that you have not gone into seclusion out of fear of what occurred with Stone and Simmonds.”

“Sounds like solid advice.” She smiled at him, before letting out a breath. “Okay, let’s go. Amy and Donna, you walk with us. Consider yourselves officially named my temporary social and etiquette instructors.”

It didn’t escape her notice that James alternated between walking behind them or moving ahead to check the intersection of halls as they went. She listened to Amy and Donna, as they spouted off instructions to her on how to carry herself. “Keep your shoulders back, with your head up slightly. Imagine a rope going from the base of your spine up to the roof.”

“Keep eye contact when speaking, but don’t stare them down unless you are wanting to intimidate them.”

“Always remember that you are in control of the mood of the room. The attitude you project is what they will reflect back.”

Rose catalogued their advice as it came streaming in, until they reached the door leading to the dining hall. Two guards were standing outside, and they snapped to attention when they saw her. Amy and Donna entered first, and then she stepped into the room with James at her side. Everyone moved to their feet, as she crossed to the tall backed chair that headed the table. James quickly pulled it out, and she stepped in between it and the table. She drew a breath and then sat. The others sat as well, and James pushed in her chair before taking a seat on her left. Jack was immediately on her right.

She noted that the table was empty of food, and she saw Sarah Jane at a door in the back of the room. Rose smiled at her and nodded. “Please have them bring in the food.” Her politeness seemed to surprise some, but she had no intentions of just barking orders unless situation dictated it. While she was being transformed from terrified princess to confident queen, Rose had decided to not change her personality. She refused to let this newfound power change her.

Dinner was tense at first, but as her friends engaged her in conversation, it began to relax. Just like Amy had said, her demeanor determined the atmosphere. Soon, everyone was talking freely, laughing, and enjoying their meal. Halfway through, Rory came in with Michael, and Rose grinned. She stood, clearing her voice and speaking loudly. “Ladies and gentlemen. May I have your attention? Before we continue on, I made a promise this afternoon that I must carry out.”

Rose stepped out from her chair and approached the center of the room. She felt all eyes on them as Rory removed his sword from his sheath and knelt on one knee. He raised his sword up in both palms to her, and she took it. “Rory Williams, do you solemnly swear to act in all manners as befitting a knight of Powell, to carry out all of your duties with professionalism, precision, and lack of malice, to protect the kingdom and its inhabitants from all threats both domestic and foreign, and to obey the orders of the Crown, so long as they are morally justified?”

“I do so swear, Your Majesty.” Rory’s voice carried, despite his downward gaze.

Rose lowered the blade to each of his shoulders and then his head. “Rise, Sir Rory Williams, Knight of Powell, and take your sword.” She turned it quickly as he rose, and presented him the hilt. He took it and sheathed it, and the applause broke out. “Come and dine, both of you. We would thoroughly enjoy your company.”

Everyone resumed eating as Jack leaned over and whispered. “So, I’ve already told Lord Syal, Lord Marn, and Lady Birch that they have been dismissed from the counsel. Sarah Janes says she will step in if you so wish of her, but she’d much rather continue service as she has. I highly recommend Sir Octavian Bishop as head of military affairs. He served dutifully as head of the Royal guard under your parents, but my father pushed him into retirement eight years ago. Now he trains prospective squires and knights” Jack gestured to a proud looking man seated between Mickey and Rory. He didn’t look a day over fifty five, but had some serious battle scars on his arms and legs. “And for the other seat, which is head of trades, I suggest Martha Jones, the woman down there across from Mickey. Her family isn’t titled, but they run several shops in various villages, and are some of the most successful of the smaller merchants in the Kingdom. She also validated the spells earlier on the painting and chest.”

“You know them best, so I trust your decisions.” Rose patted his arm as he leaned back to talk to Donna. Dinner was over soon after, and James showed her the way to the counsel chambers.

Once inside she stood at the head of the table and waited. James was staring at her, his face tight with worry. “What’s wrong?”

“When this meeting is over, you need to sleep. You look absolutely exhausted.” His pouty lower lip turned down as he spoke. “You don’t feel tired?”

Rose shook her head. In all honesty she didn’t feel much except detached. It was almost as if she was walking around in a dream where you think it’s a dream but aren’t sure. “I’m sure I will be once I crawl under my blankets.”

Just then the doors open, and Jack came striding in with the others. Rose was pleased to see Martha and Octavian with him, as well Jake who was leading a man and woman in. “Please, be seated. I know it’s late and we’ll try to make this as quick as possible.”

Jack took the seat immediately to her right, and Michael sat next to him. Sir Octavian took the chair on her left, followed by Martha, and the men who introduced themselves as Lady Vastra, who was in charge of foreign relations, and Lord Dorium, who was master of coin and assistant treasurer.

“Here’s what is going to happen. Lady Vastra and Lord Dorium, you were chosen to remain as Prince Jack deems you loyal to the good of the kingdom. If either of you find any illegitimacy to my claim as rightful Queen, you may leave now and face no punishment.”

“We were, and remain, loyal to your parents and you, your Grace.” Lady Vastra spoke pleasantly. “We never stopped looking for a way to prove your uncle’s crimes.”

“I swore to your parents I would work to make sure this kingdom prospered for as long as I had breath in my lungs.” Lord Dorium splayed his hands open on the table. “And I extend that oath to you.”

“Very well.” Rose leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table. “Now, Sir Octavian. I have asked you here to request that you step into the position of military affairs. Is that agreeable?”

“I’d be honored, my Queen.” He smiled respectfully and nodded.

“Madam Jones, I would like to offer you the position of trades mistress. I understand you are quite the successful merchant. Is that agreeable?”

“I will do my best to make sure Powell remains the largest trading power in the realms, your Grace.” Martha looked a bit shocked but pleased.

“So, Lord Octavian, messengers have already been dispatched to relay the change in power here.” Rose inclined her head to him. She knew that it was crucial to seem still in charge while asking advice. “How should we proceed from the military standpoint?”

“Fortify the walls of the city without interrupting daily functions.” Octavian rubbed his chin as he met her gaze evenly. “The Usurper was traveling with a host of only a hundred troops on his annual tour, but some of the Lords and Ladies will heed his call to arms over yours. I know we can both think of one for sure.” Rose knew he was speaking of Cassandra. The O’brien bannermen were counted at about two thousand strong. “The capitol itself can withstand a year siege if we must, but I doubt it would come to that. We have five thousand troops within half a days ride that can be ready to march, so long as their Lords side with us.”

“Do what you think would be most efficient. It is no secret I have no education on military tactics, so direct any issues to Prince Jack.” Rose gestured at her cousin who nodded. “Now, for the rest of us, go home and get some rest. Lady Martha, arrange a time with Lord Dorium and Lady Vastra get you acquainted with our trade partners. We’ll convene again tomorrow at noon.” She stood, and the rest followed suite. They left the room in a group, but James led Rose down a back way to their hall.

“I’m going to go get a change of clothes and then I’ll come to your chambers.” His chocolate eyes looked as tired as she suddenly felt. “I’m sure your bath had been drawn and your bed clothes laid out. Go ahead and get settled in.”

Rose felt her stomach give a nervous flutter at his words. “Why will you be in my chambers?” She whispered, afraid someone would overhear such inappropriate talk.

“Because I’m not leaving your side until I know that you are safe.” James kissed her brow, and she felt it tingle all the way to her toes. “Now, go, my Queen. I’ll sleep on the couch in your sitting area.”

Rose bit her lip and hurried into her room. The fire was burning in the hearth and sure enough her night dress was laid out. She did find a warm bath running, and she quickly shed her gown, undergarments, dagger, an crown to sink into the tub. She scrubbed her face and body clean quickly, leaving her hair up in the tight plait. Then she toweled off and dressed. When she came back to the main room, James was seated on the sofa in his own night clothes, with a book in hand. His eyes raised up from the pages to meet hers, and she felt suddenly naked in the long thin shift.

She could see the restraint he was wielding to keep his gaze focused on her face. She didn’t feel the pressure of the day on her anymore, as his lips turned up into an adoring smile. Rose swallowed hard before she found her voice. “You can look.” Her words made his smile widen, but he didn’t lower his gaze to rake over her body. She didn’t feel slighted or rejected, instead flattered that he respected her modesty.

“Go to bed, Rose.” He nodded at the bed and she moved towards the high mattress. Under his watchful gaze she climbed under the blankets. It didn’t take long before the exhaustion hit her, and Rose fell asleep.

James waited until she had stopped tossing and turning before he got up to dim the oil lanterns and blow out the candles. Once the room was sufficiently dark enough to sleep, but still lit enough to see should he need to, he stretched out on the couch. He tried to clear his mind of worries and what ifs, so he too could slip off, but just as he was fading into the dark abyss of dreams he felt the otherness of her worry.

He opened his eyes to squint at her. Rose was curled up in a ball under the heavy blankets, her fists clutching the pillow as she whimpered. He had totally forgotten nightmares were a side effect of the ritual. “Damn it.” He cursed himself as he kicked his own blanket aside and tip toed to her bed. “Rose.” He stroked her bare arm, savoring the soft warmth of her skin. She looked so young and innocent like this, with the only worry on her face the imagined demons of her dreams. It made his chest flood with affection. Less than a week and he was completely enamored by her. “It’s just a nightmare.”

At his touch, her face relaxed, and she gave a tiny sigh. He pulled his hand away and turned, again she whimpered and jerked under the blanket. “Bloody hell.” He couldn’t very well let her sleep so fitfully. James let out a conflicted sigh as he pulled at his hair. He went back to the couch to get his own blanket, returned to the bed and pushed hers out of the way on the empty side. He climbed onto the mattress, tucking her blankets around her, before curling her into his side and draping his own blanket over him. He felt her worry vanish as she snuggled into the crook of his arm.

James kissed her hair as he laid his head back, at least this way if a maid came in before he woke, Rose’s dignity and honor would be preserved. Feeling strangely relaxed himself, the longer she lay in his arms, he let himself slip over the edge and into a deep dreamless sleep.


	11. Mercy of a Queen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took so long! Had writer’s block

The sound of someone shrieking and James growling jerked Rose from her sleep. She blinked at the bright sunlight pouring into her room in time to find James’ hand glowing bright blue, aimed open palmed at Sarah Jane who was standing hands up next to the bed. “Sorry, mum.” He breathed, falling back onto the pillows and letting out a sigh.

“What happened?” Rose rubbed her eyes, her pounding heart gradually slowing as she yawned. She became very aware that she was almost completely cocooned in her blankets, while James was covered by the one that had been on the couch. She felt her cheeks flush as she realized he had moved to the bed at some point. “James, no offense, by why are you in my bed?”

She saw Sarah Jane visibly relax at the question and lower her hands. “I didn’t mean to startle you, but I just wanted to come in and I thought James would be in here. I didn’t want to start your second day as queen with a scandal.”

“I was on the couch.” James yawned and sat up again to stretch. “But you were having a nightmare, and I just meant to lay here until you settled down.”

“Well, you go get showered and changed while I do something with our young queen.” Rose giggled as she ripped the blanket away from his legs, balled it up, and hit him in the face. “Go on now.”

“I’m going.” James mussed his hair with one hand as he leaned over to press a kiss to Rose’s cheek. She felt it send warmth all the way to her stomach. “Be back soon, my Lady.” He scrambled off the bed and hurried out.

Rose sighed as she watched him go, peeling off her blankets. “We didn’t, I mean, I didn’t even know he was in the bed.” She averted her eyes and bit her lip as she climbed out of bed herself. She didn’t even remember the nightmares.

“Don’t have to defend yourself to me.” Sarah Jane smiled sweetly and held out her dressing gown. “I brought breakfast in, and I need to get your measurements for the seamstresses.”

Rose nodded sleepily as she escaped to the ensuite to relieve herself and splash her face. She came back out to find Sarah Jane laying out a mix match of things on her bed. She went over to look finding an array of of tunics, leggings, and dresses. “What’s all this?”

“Some things that I had put away. They should fit while we get you sized for your own wardrobe.” Sarah Jane explained.

Rose wrinkled her nose. She didn’t really want to have an extravagant selection of clothes. She never had before, and the thought of using the royal fortune for such things seemed exorbitant. “Couldn’t I just wear simple dresses or tunics and leggings in the Castle?”

“Yes, but remember, you have to look the part of queen as much as you act it.” She held still as Sarah Jane pulled out some string and began measuring her. “I’ll make sure that they do not go too extreme in the creation of your clothes. We’ll keep the pomp and circumstances for official ceremonies and such.”

Rose nodded, watching as she worked. She chewed her lip thinking. “You’ve taken such wonderful care of me since I got here, Sarah Jane.” She relaxed as Sarah Jane pulled the string away and waved her to her breakfast. “I don’t think I’ve thanked you enough for all of this.” Rose picked up some fruit and bacon, before relaxing onto a cushion. “I was wondering if you’d like to remain in charge of my daily affairs, like you sort of did yesterday. You kept everything running so smoothly that I doubt anyone could have panicked if they wanted to.”

“That’s been my job since Jack’s mother died.” Sarah Jane smiled as she set aside some clothes gathered the rest up to take into the closet. “Eat up. You’ve got to address the ladies that Were here for Jack. You need to send them home.”

“Right.” Rose paused as she chewed her bacon, a thought occurring she almost dismissed. It wasn’t exactly a nice thought, but it was a strategic one. She decided to voice. “What if we kept them here, until their fathers or mothers and banner-men arrived and then pass them directly to their families.”

“Tell me, your Grace.” Sarah Jane came out of the closet and fixed her with an inquisitive look. “Are they your hostages?”

“Of course not!” Rose felt bile rise in her throat at the idea. “They are guests.”

“Well, if you do not let them return home, now that their purpose here is over, then their families will see keeping them here as a hostage trade. Kneel to you and get their daughters back.”

Rose sighed and rubbed her face before picking up some toast. “Right, send them home, but make sure that any of the ladies who need guarded escorts get it.” She let a small smile play out on her lips. “But I need to see Reinette before she goes.” Sarah Jane shook her head with a laugh as Rose finished her breakfast. Once she was full, Rose hurried over to let Sarah Jane help her with her makeup and her dress. She was a bit hesitant at the outfit choice until Sarah Jane explained it’s purpose. It had been Jack’s mothers, one she wore when she felt well enough to travel into the city. She had been about Rose’s and Sarah Janes’ size, so like the other clothes they fit.

It was a red gown trimmed in gold, with poof sleeves at the shoulders, but light weight sleeves that went to her wrists. The sleeves were fastened by buttons under the gold band beneath the poof, designed to be ripped away if needed to fight or flee, and tied from the wrist to the elbow to allow for bracers. The skirts also were buttoned in four places and could be taken off as well to reveal the leather and cotton leggings underneath. What appeared to be a green leather bustier that came up over her shoulders and down her back, was actually covering light weight enchanted chainmail. Tucked under the shoulders of the leather and chainmail were two small daggers, and she hung her larger one on her hip. Sarah Jane had also gotten into the crown jewels, sliding a simple tiara onto Rose’s head that was decorated like leaves and adorned with small emeralds.

“There, now you are ready.” She rubbed Rose’s arms affectionately. “I really wish they could see this. I know you feel like you don’t belong here, but this is where you are meant to be.” Sarah Jane’s eyes were a bit sad as she drew a breath. “I wish you knew how much I missed you.”

Rose felt her chest tighten a bit, and she hugged Sarah Jane tightly. She vehemently wished she had grown up knowing this woman, but those were years she could never get back. All she could do now was move forward. “I’m here now.”

James pounding on the door made them jump. “Your Majesty, we need you in the counsel room immediately!”

“Duty calls.” Sarah Jane pulled back to shake her head. “Go, I’ll be along later to check on you.”

Rose pulled away to cross to the door and open it. James was waiting, looking decidedly all too gorgeous in black pinstriped pants, a white shirt, and a black vest. “What’s going on?”

“We’ve been informed that Lord Cole as been trying to contact us via an enchanted mirror.” James ushered her down the hall, keeping close to her side.

Rose wanted to reach over and take his hand, but she was acutely aware of all the eyes on them as they passed. “Remind me again, who is Lord Cole?” She whispered, keeping her head up as she walked, hoping she looked as confident as she didn’t feel.

“He is head of the Merchant’s Guild, and his daughter Lucy is married to Harold Saxon.” James whispered back, pointing a turn she should take.

Rose headed down that hall and let out a grunt of displeasure at the news. “I’m assuming that means we are facing our first defector.” She knew enough about Rassilon’s head of treasury and lead tax collector to know that anyone associated with him was going to selfish and cruel.

“Quite possibly. They are the closest estate, only a half day journey by raven for messages, a full day on horseback.” James didn’t sound troubled so much as irritated. “I’ve never met them myself, but they spent quite the dowry marrying Lucy off.”

“Let’s see what they are wanting then.” Rose nodded at the two guards standing outside the doors as they snapped to attention and pulled them open.

The high counsel was assembled, and Jack was mid shout at a silverhaired, proud looking man reflected in a mirror along the wall. “It was not a joke, Lord Cole. My cousin has appeared, and I recognize her as the rightful queen!”

“That’s enough, Jack.” Rose drew herself up to full height as she crossed the room. “Lord Cole I presume.” She let her eyes travel over the length of the man reflected before her. She could almost feel his eyes raking over her, along with the eyes of everyone at the table to her right.

“Indeed, and who do you presume yourself to be, woman?” His voice wasn’t one of insult or indignation, instead it was unsure, curious, and intrigued.

“She is Queen-“ James began, and Rose could feel him puffing up defensively behind her.

“Be still, Sir James.” She held up one finger, hearing his mouth snap shut behind her. “I am Queen Rose Marion Tyler, first and only born of King Peter Tyler and Queen Jacqueline Tyler, and marked by the wolf in the womb.” She let her hands fall to her side, before she moved them forward to clasp together at her abdomen. “Do you doubt my heritage?”

“I doubt anything I have not confirmed with my own eyes, your Grace.” His voice dripped in disbelieving sarcasm on her title. “A message by raven is hardly proof that your sudden overtake of the capitol makes you who you say you are.”

“That is why you were requested to appear, so that you can in fact bare witness to the evidence presented last evening.” James had explained to her, during dinner, the purpose of the scroll in her ceremony. Her memories had been written out in her blood, and it was enchanted so that any who touched it could see the truth if her experiences.

“Riding into an unknown situation, even with my numerous bannermen, is not a decision I make on a written summons from an unknown summoner.” His dark eyes narrowed as he took in her face, and Rose could tell the wheels in his mind were turning at breakneck speed. “I see you have kept only those on the counsel loyal to the late King and Queen.”

“I kept only those that would be loyal to the good of Powell, not the throne or the ruler.” Rose felt a small smile play on her lips. He was testing her, all be it in a disrespectful way. “As I will be evaluating all those who hold lands and titles. Any I find working against the good of my people, will be removed and replaced by someone who will. Tell me, Lord Cole, do I need to find a new head of the Merchant Guild and a new Lord of Whitedale?”

“I will come, by sunset tomorrow, to validate this for myself. I have more than finances and land staked in this coup.” Without another word the mirror went dark.

“Very well done, Your Grace.” Lord Octavian spoke first. She felt herself relax and turn, unsure where the burst of confidence arose from. “Dignified, respectful, yet spoken with authority that did not give way to threats.”

“Thanks.” She moved to her seat, smiling thanks as James pulled it out and took his position behind her chair. “So, before we get started I have already made the decision to send Prince Jack’s potential brides home. Since he has already made a decision, and I want to show that I am not holding them hostage to gain allegiance from their families, they are being packed up and readied for travel as of this morning.”

“A wise decision.” Jack nodded and leaned back in his chair. “So far we have not received word that my father is aware of what is occurring. He would have been traveling all day yesterday, and Oak-barren, was his next stop. If a raven hasn’t reached there yet, it will by nightfall.”

“Which means we should make it apparent that you are indeed on the throne.” Lady Vastra spoke next. “I hope I did not overstep my bounds, but since my wife and I often traveled abroad under your parents, we did still have their banners in storage. I ordered them to be brought out and flown in place of Rassilon’s.”

Rose felt her lips twitch up in affection for the woman. She was a quick thinker, and as Jack had thought, dedicated to the good of the people. “Thank you. That type of forethought is exactly why I needed you as an advisor.” She turned to Octavian. “Have you been able to summon the troops back to the capitol?”

“I have recalled all official royal soldiers, and they shall be arriving over the next few days. Many own their own farms, vineyards, mills, and stables, so they will come once their affairs are in order.” His leather armor creaked as he leaned forward. “There are exactly fifteen hundred that answer directly to you. Should Lord Cole side with us, he will bring an additional thousand. Lady Centuri, of the eastern ports will kneel to you, of that I have no doubt. She also has a thousand ground troops and almost a hundred ships will full crews as well. I’m not certain if Lord Samiel will side with you or Rassilon. His father served under yours, but Samiel has only ever dealt with Rassilon.”

“How many troops does he have?” Rose leaned back to rub her chin in thought. She had a feeling that any battle would take place before the more distant Lords could even make a decision.

“Almost two thousand. He controls the western mountains, and his soldiers are hardy men who are not easily swayed in their loyalties.”

“If it comes to battle, which it more than likely will, I do not want it occurring in the city or nearby villages.” She let her hand fall as she sat up straight again. “Do you know where we can try to draw his armies, so that there is a little civilian contact as possible.”

“I do.” Lord Octavian nodded.

“Good, I am giving you full authority over the military. I trust your judgement in this, until such a time as I become better educated on the subject.” Rose let her eyes trail over the table at her advisors. “Does anyone have an issue with this.” They all chorused with no’s and not at alls. “That is settled. What other matters do we have to deal with?”

“None of import, my Queen.” Jack smiled widely at her. “Luckily enough Rassilon ran the kingdom with such an imposing grip that the previous counsel knew better than to let the under workings of the kingdom fall into disarray.”

“Is this true?” Rose looked at Vastra and Dorium. She knew they would tell her if anything was needed.

“The last war made Skaro too scared to touch us again for at least a century, and none of our trade partners have any squabbles with our agreements right now.” Dorium spoke up with a smile. “So, all we have to do now is prepare for a possible siege, and wait for our messages of your Coronation to be responded to.”

“Seriously?” Rose felt a bit if disbelief. She thought that she was about to be caught up in a world of chaos, but it seemed as if she had nothing on her plate. “There’s nothing else?” Everyone shook their heads. She drew in a breath and stood. “Very well, I shall let you get to your day then.” They all followed suit and soon disbursed. Jack went with Octavian. Martha, Vastra, and Dorium disappeared, and she found herself alone with James.

“I have something for you to do to pass the time.” He smiled at her, a slightly wicked thing that made her shiver in delight.

“Oh, really?” She stepped around her chair to come closer to him. “Like what?”

James licked his lips slowly, before reaching out to her waist. His fingers trailed along the leather, coming to her hips. She felt her breath catch, expecting him to pull her in for a kiss, but suddenly his hand yanked back and a flash of steel caught her eye. Rose yelped, reaching up to grab the daggers hidden in her leather and mail, clumsily catching the strike on one.

“What are you doing?” Fear flooded her veins as she ducked under his arm and held her weapons at the ready. She watched as he chuckled and tossed the dagger in the air before catching it by the blade and presenting the hilt to her.

“You need to work on your self defense skills.” Rose slid her smaller daggers away, feeling her heart rate return to normal as he explained. “If I had been a real assassin, you’d have been dead before you even unsheathed those things.” He waved the one he was holding at her again. “Jack trained two hours a day on his blade skills, archery, and hand to hand combat. Your soldiers will not follow a leader who cannot fight themselves.”

Rose lifted the blade from his hand and resheathed it. “Let’s go down to the training field then.” She knew he was right. She was pretty skilled with a bow and decent with daggers, but her sword skills were all but nonexistent.

James led Rose out into the hall and down to small courtyard where Jack had trained with the royal guard. It was smaller than the one by the barracks near the stables, but would suffice for what he needed to teach her. This late in the morning it was empty except for some squires. He nodded towards the small outcropping of the castle that was the storage room for training leather padding and armor. “There should be some clothes in there better suited for sparring.” To his surprise she giggled.

“Or I can just do this.” With some quick movements under the gold threaded band at her waist, her skirt was gone revealing thick cotton and leather trousers. Her sleeves followed suit. “This work?”

James swallowed hard, taking in the difference in her appearance. He had absolutely adored the way she looked in those tight riding leathers, but this was just as enticing. He’d call himself a liar if he didn’t wonder what her body looked like under those layers. “Yeah.” He hoped his voice didn’t sound as high as he thought it went.

“So, sword.” He watched as she walked over to the racks of blades.

“Hang on, let me see.” James approached the racks himself, trying to find one that was better suited for her light frame. She was muscled, from her duties of housework, but different muscles would be used. He picked up one meant for training squires, a one hand light weight blade. “Try this.”

When Rose took it, he saw that it was heavy enough to train her muscles, but she was able to handle it with relative ease. “If I remember correctly.” She moved back out to the circular area and took a decent stance. She was a bit too squared and too stiff though.

“Almost.” James made his way behind her, grabbing her by the hips and angling her body more. Then he reached down to press on the back of her thighs, making himself ignore how warm and supple they felt. “Keep your body like this, so that you make a thinner target, and keep your legs slightly bent. It will keep you centered and allow for easier maneuvering.”

“Right.” He stepped away to pick out a sword of his own, then approached her again to demonstrate the correct stance. “Now, first things first, blocking.” He moved in front of her again. “Despite what many people think, you don’t want to block with the edge of your blade. You did with the daggers. It will dull it and it may chip. You block with the flat of the blade. Swing at me.” He watched as she moved, and he demonstrated turning the sword so her strike was caught on the flat portion. “That also helps it absorb the blow.”

James set to work, teaching her the different angles to block. How blocking over her head required different arm posture than blocking her abdomen or legs. “Hopefully you will never find yourself in a situation where you will be fighting alone. So defense is crucial for you to learn. Keep them off until myself or a guard can step in.” Once she had decently learned those skills, he moved on to teaching her to strike.

Rose was glorious in her attacks. She didn’t show overconfidence or lack the drive that many novices did. Her movements were quick, precise, and not so easily betrayed by her movements. James noted with pride that her skills at hiding her emotions carried over to fighting. By the end of that lesson, she had even managed to land a blow to his thigh. “Break.” She breathed, and he noticed that despite her determined smile, her face was soaked with sweat, and her arms were trembling. A quick look at the sun told him they had been at it for at least two hours.

“That’s enough for today.” James was a bit breathless himself, but he wouldn’t admit that to her. “Let’s go get you something to drink and maybe eat.”

To his surprise Rose smiled and nodded, before putting her sword away. “First I want to speak to Reinette, before she leaves. Tell her to come to my quarters.”

“As you wish, my Queen.” James wondered what exactly she was playing at as he put his own sword away. He watched as Rose refastened her skirt and sleeves, but her tiara was askew. He reached up to straighten it, making her head jerk up so her exertion flushed cheeks were visible. Her lips looked so tempting, but they hadn’t kissed since that long frantic one after the impromptu coronation. Some part of him wondered if she was still interested in him, now that she had fully taken her role onto her shoulders.

“You have freckles.” Her voice was a bit husky and low. “I never really noticed.” James felt his heart skip as she reached up with a thumb to brush them. On a whim, he turned his head and caught the meaty portion of her palm, just below her thumb, in his lips and let his teeth pull at it softly. To his delight she gave a ragged gasp, and her pupils went wide despite the morning sunlight. He let her pull her hand away, closing his lips over the skin as she did.

James couldn’t help but smile as she gave a visible shiver. “That was entirely too inappropriate of me, my Lady.” Oh it had been, but also so worth it.

“So was inviting yourself into my bed, but I wasn’t too upset about that either.” Her voice was so enticing. James glanced around, ensuring they were alone, and gave into her invitation.

Taking her by the hips, he spun her so she was against the wall near the sword rack. “Stop me.” He whispered, brushing his hands along the leather bustier and lowering his head to her lips.

“Don’t want to.” Rose’s words spurred him on, and he caught her lips.

They were so soft, tasting a bit of sweat and the colored red oils that tinted them. Her hands went up his chest, fingers clenching into the fabric of his shirt. When she sighed James let his tongue slide in to dance with hers, and he gripped harder at her waist, pulling her to him so she was up on her tip toes. He could feel her desire flaring against his mind, blazing wild with the adrenaline of their training and the way his fingers were pressing through the material into her skin. It stirred his body into growing hardness. He wanted to feel her thoughts, and as his barriers instinctively lowered he forced himself to reinforce them and pull away.

“Gods and stars above.” Rose’s voice was a gasp as she blinked up at him. “Why’d you stop?”

He swallowed a groan as he released her waist to catch her hands and kiss her fingers. “Because it is very difficult to keep myself from your thoughts when your mind is pressing so hard against mine.” That was only a half truth, and the other half was straining for acknowledgement. “And I do not want to besmear your reputation if we were caught in such a manner.”

“You’ve got.” She pulled her hands free to lick her thumb and wipe his lips. “There, now what were we talking about?” The heady look in her eyes was driving him insane.

“Getting food and speaking to Reinette.” James drew a breath to step away from her. “I’ll go get her and let one of the handmaidens know to bring food and drink to your quarters. Can you find the way back?”

“Yes. Make sure they send enough for you too.” Rose brushed past him, still looking thoroughly like a woman who had just been snogged. She turned her head to smile at him. “And thank you for the lessons.” As she walked into the door, James realized her implied statement of lessons may have referred to more than the swords.

When enough time had passed to seem proper, he followed inside. It drove him nuts, a deep instinctual feeling, for her to be walking alone when there could be threats around. Still, James didn’t want to make her feel like he doubted her self preservation skills. So, he made his way to the kitchens to order the early lunch: sandwiches, fresh fruit (hold the snake), and some raw vegetables from the gardens. He also requested a jug of lunch wine, which was watered down and mixed with fresh juice from the orchard. It had enough alcohol to make one relax, but not enough to even remotely get intoxicated.

Finding Reinette was simple enough. She was in her room when he knocked. Once her pretty, but confused face was visible, James smiled. “Her Majesty, the Queen, wishes to speak to you.” The look on her face was something between choking and the desire to run. “In her chambers. Come with me.”

“I know the way.” It was amusing the way she tried to make herself sound so secure and unshaken.

“I was told to bring you.” James gestured past him for her to enter the hall. He had heard enough from his one trip into Rose’s mind as well as from Mickey, to know that he would also be afraid if he were Reinette. He also wondered exactly what Rose had planned.

When he reached Rose’s door, he nodded at the guard there and knocked firmly three times. “Come in.” Rose’s voice was welcoming through the wood. James entered the room, adhering to proper protocol, and bowed before approaching the chair where she was sitting to stand behind her. He watched as Reinette curtsied low, looking rather sick.

“Stand.” Rose drew a breath as the woman she had called sister for so long righted herself. “I assume you’ve packed and are ready for the journey home?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Reinette seemed to choke on the words, which amused Rose to no end.

“Good, I’ve ordered a coach for you, as well as two guards to escort you home. Mickey will be remaining here, as he is going to begin training to join my calvary.” She could see the surprise in her eyes. Mickey had worked for the O’brien’s as a driver since his father died five years before. “And I have a message for you to deliver to the Lady Cassandra.” She reached down to pick up the scroll she had written while she waited. “And I have some words for you as well.”

Drawing a breath, Rose stood and crossed to her. She held out the scroll, letting Reinette take it. “You are forgiven for the way you treated me all these years. Every insult, every slap, every flogging is pardoned.” The surprise on Reinette’s face probably mirrored James’, but she didn’t dare glance back at him. “But they are not, and never will be, forgotten. I will be assigning a special assessment counsel to travel to every estate and land under my rule, once this business with the Usurper is dealt with. At each household, the staff will be asked to bear witness to the behaviors and manners of their Lords or Ladies. Where cruelty, mistreatment, or illegal activities are found, the family will find themselves stripped of all titles and replaced by someone my advisors deem fit.” She stepped back, gesturing at the door. “Consider that on your journey home, and I do wish you safe and expedient travels.” For the first time in her life, Rose turned her back completely on Reinette and walked away dismissively.

“That means you’re dismissed, Lady Reinette.” James’ face was an unreadable mask, as Rose retook her seat. By the time she looked up, the door was closing and they were alone.

“No punishment?” James’ voice was intrigued, but he didn’t move from behind her chair.

Rose stared down at her meal, feeling immensely satisfied with herself. “Come eat, and I’ll explain.” She waited until he was seated across from her, to pour him some lunch wine and fix him a plate. She reached over to set it in front of him. “Her punishment will be enough, once the staff at the house informs the assessment counsel of what has occurred there. Believe it or not, my father.” Rose caught herself as she sighed. She couldn’t help but love the man who had tried so hard to treat her like a daughter. “Lord Martin, was actually extremely kind and generous. It was Cassandra and Reinette who were cruel and merciless. Their punishment is knowing that their staff and hands will side speak against them. I sent Gwen with a message to send via raven to Bev, who is head of the staff there. She is to let me know immediately if they begin replacing staff.”

“Mercy, but not without punishment.” James’ lips finally pulled up into a smile. “Now you are thinking like a Queen.”

Rose smiled back, picking up one of the sandwiches. “I’m just trying to not subjugate my people into fear for their lives.” She took a bite and shrugged. After she swallowed she sighed, feeling a little less satisfied and a little more worried. “Was it the right choice?”

“Rassilon would have had them publicly executed if it was his choice.” James wiped away some of the juice from the yellow fruit he had eaten. “So, I would have to say that your decision was fine.”

“I just want the people to respect me like they did my parents.” It was the one thing she wanted more than anything, to live up to the memory that they had left behind. “I just hope I can.”

“So far, I’m certain they would be proud of you.” The soft look on his face made her melt inside. She was already acutely aware that each moment spent with him was making her fall more and more enamored with him. “I am very, very proud of how well you are taking everything.”

“You’ll tell me if I ever do anything that is not for the good of the people.” She bit her lip in anticipation, finding that she valued his assessment more than she did that of anyone.

“Of course I would.” James lowered the goblet he was sipping from and reached across the table to take her hand. Rose loved the warmth she felt each time he touched her. “I want nothing more than this kingdom to thrive.”

“You’d make a good king.” The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them, and she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment as she made to pull her hand back. There was only one way he could be king, and that was not a conversation that seemed appropriate so early on.

James’ fingers clung to hers, keeping them in place. He didn’t reply, but his eyes spoke volumes. He obviously felt the same as she did, and for a moment she wished she could see into his thoughts as easily as he could read hers. “You may change your mind, as you meet more eligible suitors.” His voice was a bit sad, as he released her hand and let his gaze drop to his food.

“But they’d only see the throne.” Rose found herself embolden at the sudden blush on his cheeks. “You saw me, hurting, ready to run, and afraid. You saw me when I was nothing more than a handmaiden, and you wanted to help me. Before you knew the truth, Donna said you were interested. I’d rather have a man who saw Rose O’brien, than any man who only sees Marion Tyler.”

James felt his chest swell with adoration for the woman before him, as he had that day she had ordered him out of the library. He had been falling from the moment he saw her with his mother, looking so nervous and afraid of a masquerade ball. He wasn’t very good at vocalizing this, so he settled for a joke that was almost forgotten. “Well you did agree to marry me the day we met, or did you forget?”

“Oh, shut up you.” Rose’s laugh was worth it as she threw a piece of fruit at him and rolled her eyes. James had been with his share of women, over his twenty eight years, but none had ever made him feel so accepted. He caught the fruit and popped it into his mouth with a smile. At least he knew his mother approved of Rose.

 


	12. Threats Are Made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there be smut

Rose huffed as she shifted on the throne. The stone seat was far from comfortable, and she wasn’t fond of how it made her tower over the room either. She hadn’t slept well, and she was sore from where James’ sword had landed blows on her legs and ribs the day before.

“Lord Cole.” A guard announced, and Rose heard James shift to her right, where he stood between her and Jack.

The man strode into the room, and Rose marveled for a moment at his confidence. She had seen arrogance before, many times, but that was not how he walked. His steps, the sure set of his shoulders, and the way his chin was even and not raised bespoke the attitude of a man who knew exactly who he was and what he was worth. His boots thudded as he came to a halt at the steps before the throne, and he didn’t kneel. She saw James and a guard both open their mouths, but she raised a hand and they closed them. “Thank you for your expedient arrival, my Lord. I hope the journey was pleasant.”

“We were slowed by some soldiers on foot, but otherwise uneventful, my Lady.” Lord Cole’s voice was as solid as he stance. “I mean no offense when I say that I am not here for idle chatter.”

“None taken.” Rose felt her lips twitch up into a small smile. She was ready to get down to business herself. “And now that the pleasantries have been acknowledged, I know you came for solid evidence.” She lifted the scroll in her hand for him to see. “I’m sure you have heard of a memory transcription spell.”

“Indeed. I had to utilize one myself six years ago.” Lord Cole nodded, his eyes flicking from her face to the scroll. “I know they cannot be falsified or altered.”

“Sir James, if you would please.” Rose held the scroll out, watching James took it and carried down to the man. “Witness my memories, Lord Cole, and know that whatever decision you make, you will be allowed to leave the palace and the city without being stopped.” She saw his eyebrow arch in surprise, and she knew he thought she was a bit naive. “However, should you side with the usurper, Rassilon, and take up arms against me, you will share in his fate.”

Lord Cole nodded, his face returning to the mask of confidence, and he rolled out the scroll. Closing his eyes, he let his fingers brush over the enchanted ink and blood script. His jaw twitched as his eyes slammed shut. She held her breath, fingers clenching into the chair, and she glanced at her cousin who was watching just as intently. With a muffled grunt, Lord Cole wrenched his eyes open and let the parchment curl back in on itself. He cleared his throat and handed it back to James, who rolled it back up and climbed back to her side. “The evidence is clear, irrefutable, your Grace.” His voice was a bit strained, and then he took her by surprise. “However, I can only pledge myself to your cause under one condition.”

“What is that, my Lord?” Rose was curious, and she leaned forward, as did Jack, to let him know he had her full attention.

“My daughter, Lucy, is married to Harold Saxon.” Rose was aware of this already, but she let him continue. “The marriage seemed the perfect arrangement at first, but for the last six months she has not responded to any of our letters and has not come to visit. I sent one of my hired swords to find her, and that’s when we received troubling news.” His eyes softened a bit before they narrowed in anger, his fists clenching at his sides. “Lord Saxon has been abusing her. My man discovered that it has been done to such an extent that she lost a child in her second month. If you can get her out of his hands, assure her returned safe to either my estate or here, then my banners are yours.”

“You have my word.” Rose said the words before she even considered them. Rage, hotter than boiling pitch, was blooming inside of her at the thought. “Prince Jack will dispatch someone to obtain her as soon as we are finished here.”

“I know a pair of extremely skilled individuals who would be able to get her safely out within two days.” Jack spoke up, nodding firmly. She saw James’ jaw clenched in anger when she glanced up at him.

Lord Cole drew a breath and his sword, and then he dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “Then I pledge myself and all my banners to you as our Queen, Rose Marion Tyler, from this day until my last.”

Rose stood and made her way down the steps, glad she had opted for her riding leathers instead of a gown. She glanced back at Jack who gestured extending his hand. She held out her fingers and spoke. “I accept your pledge, Lord Andrew Cole, for as long as I am fit to rule. Now rise and sheath your sword.” Lord Cole lifted his head, placed a kiss on her knuckles, and stood, sheathing his sword. “Now, I’m sure you are tired and hungry after your long ride. Madam Sarah Jane will be waiting in the hall to show you to your room.”

Lord Cole nodded briefly, before turning to leave. He had only been gone a moment before the curtain behind the throne moved, and Donna came rushing in. “Finally, Rose, a message just came by owl. Guess who from.”

“Rassilon.” Rose, Jack, and James all chorused.

Sighing, Rose rook the rolled message from her and opened it. She read it aloud. “To the imposter Queen, Rose O’brien. I hope you are finding the hospitality of my castle to your fitting. Enjoy it while you can, for it will not last long. Word of your attempt to supplant me is spreading across the kingdom, as well as the declaration for my arrest. Know this, bastard child, I am the rightful king. You will pay for your treasonous acts, for the bewitchment of my son, and for the lies you have spread about my brother’s family’s deaths. My personal guard will enjoy using you before I have your head spiked on my castle wall. Yours, ever truly, Rassilon Tyler, King of Powell.”

Disgust and hatred pooled low in her gut. Something deep inside of her growled, filling her body with its low vibrating sound. To her surprise, it rose through her throat and past her teeth. Words that did not belong to her normally peaceful personality came rumbling across her lips. “I’ll rip his heart out through his ribs.”

“Rose.” A hand touched her arm, and she spun, hand flying to her dagger. “Hey! It’s me!” James’ face looked white as he threw up his hands.

“Sorry. Sorry. I don’t know what.” Rose gasped, sliding her dagger back into the sheath and shaking her head. “Came over me.”

“You sounded like a wolf about to rip a deer to pieces.” Donna snorted, but she looked a bit spooked as well. “I also thought you might want to know that Lady Centuri and Lord Samiel are requesting an audience by way of the mirror in the counsel room.”

“Right. We’ll do that next.” Rose drew in a shaky breath, fighting to keep the rage in her core at bay. “Come on.” Turning on her heel she stomped from the room. She knew the way now and was able to lead with the authority she should have grown up holding. The guards at the doors opened them, and she strode confidently up to the mirror, that was showing split reflections.

A woman with long blonde hair and one eye covered in a patch was visible in one half. A handsome middle aged man with close cropped black hair and dark eyes held the other side of the mirror. Rose held her head straight, meeting their gazes individually. “Greetings, Lady Centuri, Lord Samiel.”

“Greetings, your Grace.” Both spoke with respectful tones, and to her shock they bowed and curtsied.

“It is heartening to see the true ruler of Powell.” Lady Centuri’s voice was pleasant as she righted. “If shocking to all involved.”

“I have to mirror, pun not intended, Lady Centuri’s sentiments.” Lord Samiel smiled, a dazzling thing that made Rose’s stomach so a little flutter.

“So you believe me?” Rose tried not to sound surprised, but she was certain she failed.

“There was no mistaking that you are Queen Jacqueline’s daughter, not with the way you stormed in here.” Lady Centuri laughed softly, her smile making her one visible blue eye sparkle. “And the way your eyes narrow just so is King Peter through and through.”

“If Lady Centuri, my family’s oldest ally, believes. I do as well. How you survived the assassination can be discussed later.” Lord Samiel shook his head, as his smile faded into a frown. “I just wanted to let you know that my soldiers and I are preparing to march as we speak. They should be at the castle in four days from tomorrow morning.”

“As soon as we are finished her, my troops and myself will be on the way as well. I will be sending half of my fleet by way of sea, they should be there shortly after my banners.” Lady Centuri nodded as she spoke. “We should be there before Rassilon arrives. I look forward to meeting you in person, my Queen.”

“As do I.” Lord Samiel gave another short bow. “I must go and ready with my troops.”

“Safe travels to you both.” Rose meant it, as the mirror faded to its normal reflective state. She turned to face Jack, James, and Donna. “So, that gives us nearly five thousand troops to repel Rassilon and protect the city.”

“It should be more than enough, since he will not be able to rally Lord Cole.” Jack’s lips were a line. “He may be able to persuade Lady Rani, if he is at Oakbarren. She will have to know, for a fact, that he will be victorious. For now, we should count her as under his alliance until we hear from her.”

“I hope she does not.” Donna spoke, a visible shiver rolling through her body. “She has some of the strongest spellcasters in the kingdom.”

Rose let her eyes flick to James, who nodded. “I trained under her from the time I was fifteen until I was nineteen.” He also looked exceedingly worried. “Perhaps I should contact Rani personally. She would be more likely to believe me.”

“We should have done that immediately.” Rose didn’t mean to snap, but she was still simmering inside at Rassilon’s words. James looked like he’d been slapped.

“I’ll go back to my quarters and contact her now.” His words were flat, emotionless as he spoke.

“Get to it.” Rose leaned heavily on the table, regretting her sharp words almost the instant he was out the door.

“Gods above and below, Rose.” Donna’s words made her jerk her head up. The fiery woman was glowering at her.

“Donna.” Jack took her arm with a warning look.

“Let her speak.” Rose fisted her fingers against the stone tabletop.

“It’s Rassilon you should be pissed at, not the rest of us.” Donna’s eyes blazed in irritation. “My cousin has been nothing but kind to you from the day you met. He would willingly die to keep you from harm. How dare you talk down to him.”

Shame flooded Rose’s cheeks as she drug her hands through her hair. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have taken my anger out on him.” She felt a pang of sadness at the way Jack was clinging to Donna’s hand, trying to hold her in place. They were about to go to war, and she was so busy wallowing in her own anger and fear that she was ignoring the good that had come of this. “You’re getting married in the morning.” Her words were as shocking to them as they were to her.

“Come again?” Jack choked on his words. “In the morning.”

“We’re about to go to war. There should be some happiness before bloodshed.” Rose forced a smile to her face. “Donna’s family is here. I’m sure she already has her dress ready.”

“I do.” Donna looked incredulous as she spoke. “But are you sure? I mean, shouldn’t we be focused on more pressing matters?”

“Love is a pressing matter.” Rose came around the table to look up at them both. “Now, go, do whatever preparations you need to do. I have an apology to make.”

“Thank you, Rose.” Jack leaned down to kiss her cheek with a smile. “See you at dinner.”

Leaving her friends behind, Rose made her way out of the counsel room and to the hall that held their rooms. It felt odd to walk without James at her side. It seemed even longer than normal, as she tried to formulate an apology in her mind. She was so distracted, that she hadn’t even realized she reached the door to the Smith’s suite until the wood was in front of her. Swallowing what little pride she had, Rose knocked.

Sarah Jane opened the door, her face worried. Then she smiled. “Rose. Hello.”

“Donna and Jack will be married in the morning.” Rose wasn’t sure why she blurted that out, but it made Sarah Jane blink.

“I guess I better have the staff and kitchens get everything ready.” She sounded a bit hesitant, but she glanced back over her shoulder. “He’s in his room, he just finished speaking with Lady Rani.” She edged around Rose and disappeared into the hallway.

Heart pounding, Rose entered the living area and shut the door behind her. She crossed to James’ door and knocked. After a moment it opened, James looking a bit surprised then his fsce went blank again. “Your Majesty.”

“May I come in?” Rose felt her hands shaking as he hesitated. When he stepped aside, she moved past him. His bedroom was just what she expected. Books were scattered across tables and a desk. Potion ingredients and scrolls were tucked in various places, and his bed wasn’t made. It was, all in all, a very cost environment, except for the chill rolling off of his body. “I’m sorry.”

“You do not need to apologize, your Grace.” James moved away from the open door, to clear off a chair near a low table.

“Well I’m going to anyways.” Rose reached back, unthinking, to close and lock the door. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I’m sorry I dismissed you so coldly.” She came forward to grab his arm as he reached for more books to move. “I’m just-.” She felt her words catch in her throat, words she hadn’t dared utter since the crown was placed on her head. “James, I’m terrified.”

“You have an entire army of five thousand at your command.” James straightened himself, not turning to face her. “And I am bound to defend you, by oath, should it come to that.”

“Screw your oath.” Rose pulled hard on his arm until he met her gaze. “I want you to fight beside me because you want to.”

“I cannot fight beside you, because I must fight in front of you. I’m your protector. I am not your equal.” His emotionless words but through her, and something inside of her snapped.

“Yes you are.” Rose grabbed his shirt in her other hand, pulling him down until his lips crashed into hers. He tried to pull back at first, but when she slid her hands up to tangle in his hair, he groaned and pulled her close. “Forgive me.” She sighed against his lips.

“Like I could ever stay mad at you.” James gasped, his tongue brushing her lips. His hands moved up her sides, brushing against the thin leather that covered her ribs, and his thumb grazed the side of her breast. “Sorry.”

Words played on Rose’s tongues, and she was terrified to say them for fear the gods would rip him from her like they had the rest of her life. Then she had an idea. “Read my thoughts.”

“Are you sure?” He sounded as nervous as she felt.

Rose lowered her hands to grasp his and raise them to her face. “Please.” His fingers flexed against her temples, and then he pressed his forehead to hers. She thought she felt, for a moment, a brush against her mind, but it was gone.

James stifled his groan with Rose’s lips as he dipped into her thoughts. He hadn’t ever entered someone’s mind with permission, and the sensations were overwhelming. Rose was terrified, of Rassilon, of the impending war, and most of all her feelings for him. They were bright, frantic, and enticing. She felt the same for him as he did for her. There was still, under it all, a worry that she was not good enough for him, despite her lineage. “Oh Rose. You silly woman.”

“What is it?” Her lips were trailing distractingly along his jaw. She pulled away, those honey eyes moving between his.

“I just wish you could see you how I do is all.” James lowered his hands, so enthralled in her mind that he didn’t need to maintain contact at her face. He ghosted his fingers down her neck. “I wish you could see my thoughts.” He had never wished that before, as he knew what a curse it was to have his abilities, to always know the truth.

“So do I.” To his surprise, she was undoing the buttons of his shirt, her soft fingers brushing the skin underneath.

“We shouldn’t.” Even to his own ears, the protest was weak. His body was straining for her, as her arousal doubled his own.

“Want to. I’ve never...” Rose’s voice trailed off as her cheeks flooded in embarrassment. He knew she was being truthful, without seeing her thoughts.

“I just don’t want to taint your dignity.” James reached forward to lift her chin. “I don’t want you to regret this.” He had been to bed with women before, and he knew the reputation risks that could run with it.

“I won’t.” Her eyes pleaded with him, dark with need, and his control fractured.

James groaned as he pulled her to him again, pressing his hips and hardened length against her body. He lifted her by her hips, spinning as her legs wrapped around his, and he moved her to the bed. They both needed to feel the other, to get lost in the release of pleasure, but his own honor was still warring for recognition.

Rose felt herself trembling from head to foot, as he laid her against the sheets and pressed his body into hers. The sensation of his arousal rubbing against her leather clad center sent little explosions of pleasure up her spine. She had never felt such a singleminded urge before in her life, and when he began pulling at her boots, she tried to silence the anxiety in her mind.

She didn’t question him, when he ignored her shirt and leather vest, but she watched in anticipation as he untied the strings at the front of her pants and peeled the supple leather down her legs to drop them to the floor. The cool air against her warm, wet curls, made her shiver. Then, to her surprise and embarrassment, he trailed a finger from the inside of her knee, up her thighs, between her curls and folds, and up to stroke a spot that made her jerk and whimper. “James, what are you-“ her words cut off with a small cry as he pressed the spot again.

He didn’t answer, and she almost stopped him as he followed the same path with his lips. The hot, rough surface of his tongue against the bundle of nerves at her apex made her buck under him, and her embarrassment gave way to an undeniable ecstasy. It felt wonderful, the way he closed his lips around it and began to suck and lick.

Rose whimpered in pleasure, as he scooped his arms under her legs to lift them over his shoulders, and then the fingers of one hand dipped in to keep her curls and folds parted. The others braced against her lower abdomen, keeping her pressed flat into the bed. All coherent thought fled her mind, as James’ tongue dipped low to press into her. She felt tension, but just before it turned to pain his tongue retreated to dance circles around her entrance. Then it pressed in again, swirling, filling her slightly before trailing back up to the bud of pleasure. His fingers slid down from where they were stroking her sensitive skin beneath her curls, to let one replace his tongue and move in teasing circles just inside of her. The combined sensations forced her to the point of wordless whimpers and gasps, as the waves of pleasure rolled over her.

James couldn’t bring himself to claim her body, nor could he deny the need waving over him from her. He needed to give her release as much as he needed it himself. So, he found the best compromise he could, and the taste of her on his tongue was heavenly. He knew she had been truthful, but the evidence of it posed a dilemma that he needed to work around. Luckily for his skill, he knew exactly just how far to let his fingers and tongue slide into her before she felt the pain.

Groaning, he pressed his own hips into the mattress, seeking the friction he needed as he worked her towards completion. She was writhing under him, despite his effort to keep her in place, so he let her go, moving his hand down to adjust himself as he teased her center with one finger and latched his lips around the now swollen bud at her apex. His thoughts were cloudy, as he gave into his own need, pulling his length out of his pants and stroking in time with the movements he was lavishing on her. She was so close, he could feel it, and he let his teeth graze gently. The yelp she made, combined with her sudden grabbing of his hair made him chuckle as he gave into his own touches.

Rose felt a tension building low inside of her, and she reflexively clenched her muscles in her thighs as she pulled at his head. James was groaning now too, and the sounds only added to what she was feeling. His lips tightened around her his tongue swirling and pressing, as his fingers began thrusting and circling faster. The tension hit a point and snapped. She couldn’t control the cry of his name that escaped her lips or the way she jerked under him, her body arching off of the bed. Stars clouded her vision and her pulse roared in her ears. She had thought the other pleasures she had felt were wonderful, but this made her feel like she was spinning and flying.

James gasped as he felt Rose hit her climax. She exploded around him, writhing snd bucking, as her thoughts, red and white clouded ecstasy, crashed into his mind. Pulling back, as he felt the sensations growing too much for her, he moved over her to catch her lips in a passionate kiss. He wanted nothing more than to let himself sink into her velvet heat, but he held himself in check, dipping his tongue into her mouth as he worked himself towards his release.

Rose tasted herself on his tongue, but she didn’t mind. Her body felt like jelly as he suckled and pulled at her lips. Her thoughts were still hazy, but she felt his hand moving between them and she vaguely realized he was pleasuring himself. She wanted to feel, to do to him what he had done to her. “Show me how.” She managed to gasp as she slid her own hand between them. She felt his length brush against her fingers, his hand bumping hers, and she mimicked the way his fingers were circled. Her heart rate, already racing, sped up more as he closed his hand over hers and began moving their joined grasp in a steady motion.

“I’m nearly there.” James could barely talk at the feeling of her fingers on his hard arousal. He dropped to his elbow, angling his hips to let her see what she was doing. “Bit tighter, love.” He couldn’t help but kiss her a bit roughly as her fingers tightened just a bit. It only took four more strokes and her teeth pulling at his lips for him to find his own completion, and empty his release across the sheets and their joined hands. Shaking, he pulled her hand away and collapsed beside her. His heart pounded so loud he was sure everyone in a hundred mile radius could hear. He’d just had the most intimate and brilliant encounter of his life, and he hadn’t even been inside of her.

“That was amazing.” Rose’s trembling whisper drew his eyes open. She was rubbing her bare thighs together, her hair splayed behind her on his pillow, and blinking at him with starry eyes.

“It will be better when I actually get to make love to you.” James grabbed one end of the sheet to wipe their hands clean before he touched her cheek. “But yes, this was wonderful. You are so beautiful, Rose.”

“So are you.” Rose giggled as she rolled over to kiss him again. She felt inexplicably bubbly, and the pressing need she had felt earlier had all but abated. If this was so wonderful, she was eager for them to actually make love. “That thing you do with your tongue is magical.” She watched as he grinned ear to ear and rolled over to face her.

“Im glad you enjoyed yourself, love.” Rose could help but giggle again as he reached out to tap her nose. “Maybe later tonight, you’ll let me do it again.”

The word he used didn’t escape her notice. “Maybe you can show me how to do something like that for you.” Rose had overheard some of the other ladies back at the estate talk about such things, but it had been considered married talk and not for her ears.

James eyebrows nearly met his hairline. “Your Grace!” He gasped teasingly, wondering if she knew just how tempting that suggestion was. The thought of those full lips around him was nearly enough to spur him into hardness again. “Such an unladylike suggestion.” He chuckled, pulling at her lip with his teeth. “But I can definitely teach you how.”

Rose felt her stomach do a flip at the dark look in his eyes as he tucked himself away and sat up to get her pants. She knew one thing for sure, after this moment, she could never let another man touch her body.


	13. Vows and Pain

Donna looked absolutely stunning in James’ opinion. Her dress had been made three months ago, when Jack had told Wilf of his intentions to marry her. Rassilon had insisted he at least try to court someone else, but it was a futile attempt. The pair had grown up together, and their friendship had sparked into something more at the last Winter Solstice festival. James had been a bit surprised at the change at first, but he had been happy. It was always going to take a strong willed woman to deal with Jack, and an equally stubborn man to deal with his cousin’s sassy mouth and attitude.

So he stood next to Jack in front of the throne, watching as his grandfather escorted Donna down the aisle. Her dress was an off white color, as befitting a bride during her first marriage, decorated from the hips down with magically embroidered lavender sprigs to represent the sprawling meadows that surrounded the Noble Estate. Her ginger hair had been tousled into waves that cascaded around her shoulders, and it was held back by the pearl and diamond tiara, shaped like vines and leaves, resting on her head. That, along with the matching necklace and earrings, had been a wedding gift from Rose.

James smiled broadly at her, feeling nothing but brotherly love for her and the man standing next to him. The smile she gave back was not for him, but for Jack, as her husband to be descended the stairs to take her hand from Wilf and lead her up to where Rose was waiting. She curtsied as Jack bowed, and Rose’s smile in return was brilliant.

“Friends, family, and honored guests.” Rose’s carried out over the crowd. “We have gathered here to witness the joining of two souls, the Lady Donna Noble and Prince Jack Harkness. Does anyone present have reason to prevent these two from joining their houses?” She paused, but Jack spoke up.

“Keep it to yourself if you do, because this is happening.” His words made Rose and Donna snort behind their hands and the audience giggle. “That’s what I thought.”

“Continuing on.” Rose held her hands out in front of the same dress she wore for her coronation. “Lady Noble and Sir Mott, as Donna’s living relatives, can attest to her willingness to agree to this marriage, swearing that she is doing so not out of commands or duress by your family.”

“We can.” Wilfred smiled, his eyes a bit watery. James caught his eyes for a smile.

“And I, being Jack’s only present relative, do attest that he is acting out of willingness, with no commands or duress pressuring him.” Rose took their hands into hers and raised them so their fingers joined. “Do you both promise, in the sight of all the gods above and below, that you will be faithful in mind and body to one another, to keep each other in the trials life may give, and to love each other until you pass from this realm and into the next?”

“I do.” Jack and Donna’s voices chorused together around them, and James felt his heart swell with pride and joy in the moment. He knew that they would abide their vows.

“Then by my right as Queen, I join your souls, as I have joined your hands, from this day until your last days.” She pulled her hands away and clasped them in front of her. “You may now confirm this union with a kiss.”

James had to avert his eyes at the way Jack pulled Donna to him, bent her back slightly, and kissed her. He tried very hard not to look at Rose, as just a few hours before he had been exploring her body with his own lips and fingers. She had done the same, taking to his promised instructions with such enthusiasm that he hadn’t been able to stand for a solid fifteen minutes. He failed at avoiding her face, finding her glancing sideways at him blushing profusely and biting her lip.

“I give you all, husband and wife, Prince Jack Harkness and Princess Donna Noble-Harkness.” Rose laughed as the crowd clapped when the newlyweds broke apart. “Let the breakfast feast begin.” She watched as they descended the steps and were engulfed in the crowd of servants, guards, and citizens of the city that Jack and Donna were friendliest with. She glanced over at James who was watching her with such a heated look she almost melted. She could still feel his tongue and lips laving devotion on her breasts and thighs from the night before.

“May I escort you down, my Queen?” James’ voice was the epiphany of gentlemanly propriety as he stepped forward to extend his hand, but the knowing smile on his lips said his mind was exactly where her’s was. She was thankful that she had worn gloves, as she was almost positive if he touched her thoughts he would find himself in a state of embarrassment.

“Please, Sir James.” Rose placed her fingers lightly in his and made her way cautiously down the stairs to the crowd who was now surging from this room to the formal dining hall beyond. They had reached an agreement last night, that the formal wedding celebrations would occur after the Rassilon threat had been resolved. So for now it was just breakfast reception and the hullabaloo of accepting well wishes. Then Jack and Donna were to be left alone.

Rose willingly gave up the head of the Royal banquet table to the newlyweds. She sat contentedly between James and Sarah Jane.   
Amy was a few seats down, between her mother and Rory. It felt, she realized, like she was with family. These people cared for her like the family who raised her should have, and watching them laugh and converse made her eyes misty.

A soft hand touched her arm, and she looked up from her omelette to find Sarah Jane smiling at her. “What’s wrong?” Her voice was low enough that even James couldn't have heard.

Rose swallowed and sniffed softly. “Nothing, I’m actually really, really happy.” She reached over to pat Sarah Jane’s hand. “All of you make me feel like I belong. This is the family I should have been raised by is all.”

“Maybe when all of this is over.” Sarah Jane’s smile was soft and hopeful. “You will officially become part of the family.” She let her gaze flick purposefully at James, who was playfully teasing Donna. “I’ve never seen my son as happy as he is when you walk into a room and smile at him.

“I hope so.” Rose squeezed Sarah Jane’s hand before reaching up to dab her eyes with a napkin. “Because I have never been happier than when I wake up knowing his smile is going to be there waiting.” Feeling embolden by Sarah Jane’s statement of her son’s affections Rose leaned over to James, and she touched his shoulder lightly. He turned, still smiling from the banter he’d been exchanging with his cousin and best friend. Knowing that everyone was watching their table, Rose pulled him down for a chaste touch of her lips to his. It was the first time they had kissed in view of others aside from his family, and she knew that the brief moment was enough to send a clear message to anyone who saw.

James felt his heart skip a beat when Rose’s lips brushed against his. Doing that, in her position, was akin to a man making a formal announcement on who he intended to court. He wondered if she knew that, but when she pulled away and her eyes met his, he knew that she was aware. He noticed, as he reached up to brush his thumb across her cheek, that it had had the intended effect. Some of the male guards looked a little downtrodden, and a few of the single towns women were frowning. One in particular was Joan Redfern, a magician and healer from the city that had assisted his mother during a few deliveries of the castle staff.

The breakfast feast was drawing to a close, with everyone filing out. Donna and Jack had gone already, and Rose hurried to her room to change. She had training with James again in half an hour. She was still sore from her last sparring session and the archery refresher course. However, she was riding high on the giddy feeling from the night before, as well as the joy of the wedding. Quickly, she donned the padded leathers James had snagged her from a squire her size, her daggers, and headed out to the training area. James had told her he would be along shortly , as he needed to renew the warding on Jack’s suite to include protection if Donna was in there alone.

Rolling her shoulders, Rose stretched herself out. Once she felt loose and a bit less sore, she picked up the sword she had used two days before and began running through the stances he had shown her. She executed them slowly at first, making sure her positioning was just right. Then gradually began picking up the pace. She had just finished the set at full speed when she heard the sound of mail and armor plating behind her. She spun, finding a man in a chest plate, bracers, and greaves. His face was covered by padded leather, but the ruffled brown hair was visible.

“Did I need armor, James?” Rose gestured at the storage room that held the training attire. He shook his head and drew his sword, adopting the broader stance he had told her most knights fought in. Shrugging, assuming the silence was due to the leather padded helmet, Rose adopted her stance and held her sword at the ready.

He lunged forward, with an obvious blow to her chest, and Rose parried it with a grunt. He was hitting harder than he had the last time. Gritting her teeth, Rose broke their swords apart and lunged at his leg. He blocked her with a simple twist of his wrist, and shoved her hard with his free hand. She stumbled back, the push making her breath catch. “Okay, no holding back then.” She growled playfully, feeling her adrenaline spiking. She slid back into her stance and waited for him to move. She saw him feint with his left leg, and brought her sword up to block the blow to her right. It was the most basic diversion he had covered. When their blades parted, she ducked under him and struck a blow at his side. She landed the hit with a grin, but what came next was so unexpected, she didn’t initially comprehend it.

His free hand grabbed her sword arm, wrenching it back with an audible snap, and then his sword pierced the leather at her pelvis. It pierced the skin, ripping and tearing out through her hip. She heard the leather tear, the skin split, and the blade hit her bone with a scratching thud. Her leg gave out, and when she hit the cobblestones of the training area, the pain took its toll. Unable to stop herself she screamed. The betrayal she felt, deep within her gut, was as excruciating at what radiated from her hip and wrist. She looked down to see the dark red blood gushing out, and her vision swam. She was vaguely aware of the sound of boots in the distance, along with swords and shouting.

He towered over her, sword poised directly over her chest. “Why James?!” She gasped, trying to move her hand to put pressure on the wound, but red hot pain shot up her arm making her nearly vomit. “I thought we-“ her sentence faded off as she choked on the bile. Everything felt oddly swirling, and then a voice rang out.

“Nullus motus.” James voice echoed from the door way to the hall. His hand was outstretched glowing blue, and the man above her froze. Three guards barreled in, tackling the man across the area, pinning him down and disarming him. With a feeling of detachment, Rose realized that the man was an assassin. “Take him to Sir Simmonds and summon my mother to her healing chambers! I’ll tend to the Queen.”

“James.” Rose managed to get the word out before she emptied her breakfast onto the ground. Everything was becoming unfocused, blurry like trying to read a page in a dream.

James had heard the sound of metal on metal and assumed Rose had been sparring with one of the knights in training. Her screams had cut through him like a frozen blade at the same time he felt her panic slam into him, and he had sprinted down the hall. Three guards, who had just been relieved from their shift, were charging in as well. What he saw before him had made him nearly shout out words to kill, his oath summoning the magic before he could think. Yet, killing would not be wise as they could interrogate the man. Instead he had used his magic to freeze the man in his tracks. It drained more energy than he had liked, but it couldn’t be helped.

He skidded to a stop by Rose, who was bleeding profusely both from the compound fracture in her arm and the gaping wound in her hip. The dark red bubbling blood on her leg needed to be stopped immediately. He shoved three fingers into the bloody cut of her hip and half sobbed. “Arteriam claudiet.” He winced as Rose screamed again then went limp, but he felt the nicked iliac artery meld itself back together. The veins would have to be deslt with later, when he had the diagram books in his mother’s healing room. “Rose, look at me.” Her honey eyes fluttered open. “There’s my precious girl. Keep looking at me okay.”

“I thought he was you.” Rose whimpered and his heart broke. “I thought you were trying to kill me.”

“Never,” James pulled her into his arms and stagger to his feet. She wasn’t unconscious, but she was still a dead weight. “I’d never hurt you.” He channeled what was left of his magical energy. “Auget celeritatem meum.” He felt his legs fill with the magical speed as he dashed inside.

“You’re crying.” Rose’s words made him realize his cheeks were indeed soaked with tears. He had been so frantic in healing her and getting her inside he hadn’t noticed. “Why are you crying? Am I-“ her voice cut off into a strangled cry on the words as her injured wrist, which was dangling freely, clipped a tapestry. Her head lolled dangerously before she raised it again to blinked at him, tears now coursing down her colorless cheeks

“No, you aren’t going to die.” James knew that if he didn’t get the full bleeding staunched it was a possibility. “I won’t let you die, because I love you.” Her eyes went wide before they drooped shut, and her head lolled.

James kicked open the doors to his mother’s healing room, slid to a stop at the main treatment bed, and set her gently down. The door at the other end flew open, and his mother and aunt came rushing in. The spell on his legs faded away, and the exhaustion hit him. He staggered out of the way as his aunt shoved him, and he braced himself on a chair.

Rose looked distressingly pale as the pair ripped her clothing apart with scissors and knives. He watched as his mother glowed a brilliant scarlet and his aunt radiated white light. Their hands moved, touching Rose’s skin as they passed bandages, gauze, herbal balms, and potions back and forth. He had always admired the way the pair, who normally bickered and taunted each other as only family could, seemed to become two parts of one person when they worked. He didn’t have the strength to. All he could do was pull himself into the chair and focus on the connection he had with Rose. He could feel it, but it was as weak as it had been the day they met. He tried to center himself, to regain some energy so he could cross the room to get some of the bread and wine that an assistant was bringing in, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

Rose was aware of hands touching her, of itching burning sensations coursing through her leg and wrist. She heard Sarah Jane and Sylvia mumbling as they moved around her, but she didn’t understand what was being said. It was too overwhelming, but she was too tired and weak to protest. She felt and vaguely heard the snap of her wrist resetting, and the pain there gave way to more burning but even more itching. She wanted to scratch it, to do anything to alleviate the desperate sensation. She forced her eyes open, reaching with her good hand, but Sylvia’s eyes met hers and the woman’s palm covered her face. Then everything went blissfully dark and numb.

She felt like she was waking from the fever she had suffered once just before her tenth birthday. Everything felt sluggish and leadened down to move, but her mind said she was in danger. There was a blade poised to drop on her at any second. Rose tried to roll to the side, but a stab of soreness made her gasp as she hit a solid wall of linen and skin. Shrieking, she tried to roll the other way. She felt herself start to fall and she opened her eyes. An unfamiliar floor was lurching up towards her, and arms wrapped around her. “Let me go!” She screamed, her heart pounding in panic as she struggled.

“It’s me.” The arms pulled her back to his chest, squeezing her tightly around the chest. “Rose, it’s me. It’s James.” That didn’t help. The last thing she remembered was James breaking her wrist stabbing her through the hip.

“You tried to kill me.” Rose flailed against him, trying to kick back at him, but a twinge of pain made her wince inward on herself. It wasn’t an unbearable pain, more like an almost healed sprain

“No, an assassin tried to kill you. I saved you.” James’ voice sounded exhausted and shattered as he rolled her over to face him. He had been crying, and his eyes looked exhausted in his pale face.

Like remembering a dream, the events came back in hazy flashes: James using magic to stop the man and then her bleeding, running through the halls, dropping her onto a table as Sarah Jane and Sylvia worked on her, and then the burning and itching. One moment stood out above the others, James’ breathless confession as he carried her. “You love me?” It seemed hardly comprehendible. She felt that way towards him, but he was more experienced in the world. They had only known each other about a week, but that was enough for her to know. He had seen her when she was nobody.

“I do.” James smiled sleepily at her and kissed her brow. Almost instantly she relaxed into his arms. “I don’t understand why, but I do. I’m so sorry that I put you in danger by not being there.”

Rose sighed and snuggled into his chest. “You saved me. That’s all I care about.” She kissed the patch of skin at the neck of his shirt. “And I love you too.”

James felt what bit of tension he was harboring wash away at her words, and he smiled through the yawn. He brushed her hair back from her face to kiss her cheek. He didn’t understand had this woman had stormed into his life and touched his heart the way she did. What he did know was that the thought of her dying in hid arms had terrified him. He hoped Jake, Octavian, Rory, and Mickey were extracting the information very thoroughly from the man. He would know in a few hours.

Sarah Jane had ordered Rose not to be disturbed until morning, as it had taken nearly four hours to fully mend the wounds. The healing part was ten hours of rest and sleep. There were guards posted at both doors, blocking anyone from coming in. He was also still recovering his own energy. “Go back to sleep. It’s only midnight.” Savoring the feel of her in his arms, he rested his chin on her head and let his eyes flitter shut.

James’ words were like a sleeping potion. Rose breathed in the clean smell of his shirt and sighed as she closed her own eyes and let her head move from the pillow to his shoulder. Her mind was already growing thick with sleep, and she gave into it willingly. Tomorrow she would focus on the war. At that moment, she just wanted to pretend that this bubble of happiness was their life.


	14. Preparing for War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so long to update. Holidays are CRAAAAAZY! Happy New Year!

Rose stood anxiously between Lord Cole and Jack in front of the mirror in the counsel room. Her leg was still a bit sore, feeling more like she took a stumble down some stairs than being stabbed. It was almost half an hour passed the time when the magicians Jack had asked to retrieve Lucy were due to check in. They were, she had found out, mercenaries from Boeshane that had come here as an escort for a jewel-smith to Oakbarren. That job was over, so they had eagerly taken up this task since Rose and Jack had promised to pay them each a thousand gold coins. They had told them also learned that Rassilon had left Oakbarren the day they had been hired. That meant that it shouldn’t have taken them past today to get Lucy and get into the safety of the forest.

“Where are they?” Lord Cole was so tense Rose swore she could feel his muscles vibrating. “They said noon!”

“Patience, Lord Cole. I trust these men.” Jack’s smile was one of total charm and assurance.

“Look!” Rose watched as the mirror began to ripple. “Show us the contact.” She had been taught the words to activate the mirror. Like fog dissipating, an image of a cheerful looking man with a scar down his cheek came into view. Behind him were dense trees.

“Morgan! I assume you are smiling because it’s good news!” Jack spoke up first, his stance relaxing.

“Good and bad.” Morgan glanced back over his shoulder, and the image shifted. A man with white shoulder length hair was crouched over a blonde woman in a red dress. Her hands were bound, and she was gagged. His hands were glowing lavender. “Good news is, we got Lady Lucy out. The bad news is there’s some sort of mind control spell on her. If we ungag and untie her she starts screaming for her husband and fighting. Adrid is trying to put a hypnosis on her.”

Lord Cole growled in rage. “If you harm her, I’ll have your head!”

“Easy now, my Lord.” James stepped forward holding up his hands. “Get her here to the castle, and I’ll be able to get the spell off.” Rose breathed a sigh of relief. Of course James would know how to fix it. “Keep her gagged and her hands tied. Try a compulsion spell to find her father instead.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll get two horses in the village by the river, and ride straight for the capitol city. Should be there by midnight tomorrow.” Morgan touched his forehead and the mirror went blank.

“When Rassilon’s troops arrive.” Lord Cole’s voice was deathly dangerous. “I want the pleasure of taking Saxon’s head from his shoulders.”

“I wouldn’t expect any less.” Rose nodded at him. “For now, use the mirror here to contact your wife and let her know.” Her instinct was to reach out and pat his arm, but she realized that would probably be condescending.

“Then, I’ll tell my men to start preparing for battle.” Lord Cole unclenched his fists and drew a breath. “Thank you, Your Grace, Your Highness, for getting my daughter away from that madman.”

James touched Rose’s arm to guide her out of the room, and she went willingly. Once the doors were shut she let the anger inside hiss out. “When this is over, I’m passing a law making spousal abuse punishable by life in the coal mines. If it causes a miscarriage of pregnancy, then death by starvation.”

“That’s a law I can firmly get behind.” Jack snorted in annoyance, making her look over at him, where he was frowning. “It used to be six days in the stocks, but my father vetoed the law three years ago.”

“Guess we know why.” James could feel Rose’s anger rolling into him, and he tried to block it out. It wouldn’t due to have double the anger when he was expected to escort her out to see the troops and talk to Lord Octavian. “Our horses should be out front. Lord Octavian is expecting us.” He was giddy to show Rose the surprise he and his mother had found.

“Right.” Rose’s irritation was still broiling over onto him some as they made their way wordlessly down the hall. Jack was uncharacteristically quiet as well. James knew that the thought of having to go to battle against his father was hard, despite the fact that he had renounced him. However, when they reached the front of the castle, Rose’s irritation gave way to one of girlish joy and giddiness, and he couldn’t help but grin.

The three horses were waiting: Jack’s prized white destrier stallion, Caderyn, James’ own blue roan destrier stallion, Gallifrey, and a magnificent solid black destrier and courser cross mare. “Come and meet Isolde.” He took her hand and led her down to the mare.

“She’s beautiful.” Rose ran her hand along the mare’s neck, feeling wonder at standing next to such a large creature. She had ever only rose the cart horses or Reinette’s elegant mare. She had never been astride one of the massive war horses that belonged to knights or titled Lords. “Hello Isolde. Aren’t you just a stunning lady?” The mare turned her head to sniff at Rose’s hair and lipped it sweetly.

“She’s the granddaughter of your parents’ prized horses.” James explained. “Their bloodlines have always turned out marvelous mounts. Lord Octavian rides her older brother.”

Realizing the meaning behind this made Rose’s breath catch. “She’s mine? Really?” The chuckle from Jack made her grin as she ran her fingers along the tight braids in Isolde’s mane. “Help me mount, please.” She spoke to James, but the groom holding her reins hurried over and crouched down to cup his hands. She stepped into the cradle of his palms and with his help hoisted herself in the saddle. From this height she felt a little unsure of her seat, but she tried not to let it show. She focused on the difference of the broad back, finding the right way to hold her legs as the groom adjusted her stirrups

“Careful with your signals.” Jack explained as he gathered his reins and patted Caderyn on the neck. “They are trained to respond to even the lightest touch. She’s a pretty girl, all right, but she’s also trained to fight so don’t let her take control.”

Rose nodded, as the grooms all stepped back. She nudged the reins to turn Isolde to the large open circle of stones that made the winding carriage drive, and pressed her calves gently. She had thought that Isolde would need a stronger signal to go, but the mare immediately stepped into a walk. The motion was strange, each long, single step rippling power under her. Her leg and hip twinged a bit from their still healing injury, but she shoved the pain aside. Despite her size, Isolde’s gait was smooth, like sitting astride a massively cradle as it rocked.

“Enjoying yourself?” James grinned at the utter joy on Rose’s face. The question was irrelevant as he could feel her happiness, but he hadn’t disclosed to her yet that he was in tuned with her emotions.

“Yes!” Rose laughed, tossing her head back as she did, her tiara glistening in the noonday sun.

James grinned back, catching Jack’s eye and winking. “Race you to the portcullis.” He nudged Gallifrey, and felt his wonderful stallion surge forward.

Rose couldn’t help the indignant squeal at the sudden change in the mens’ horses, and squeezed her calves into Isolde. The marvelous girl took off, the power and heavy sound of her stride a bit shocking. She gasped at the strength of the mare beneath her, feeling her own braid whip out behind her as she gave the mare her head to run. Soon they were neck in neck with the others, and she laughed as Isolde’s slightly smaller and quicker frame pulled ahead. It was a long path to the portcullis and guards ahead, and Isolde kept the lead by a full body length until Rose pulled her back into a canter, then trot, and finally a walk to stop. “I win!”

Rose’s breathless proclamation made James laugh, as he slowed Gallifrey down. Jack was roaring with laughter too. “How was that? Different from the other things you must be used to riding?” Jack’s quip made Rose blush profusely.

“Jack.” James snickered a warning. “That was far too crass.” Rose’s embarrassment crashed into him as she tucked her head down and shook it.

“Like I didn’t notice the looks you two were exchanging at my wedding.” Jack beamed at them as they passed under the gate to the street leading into the city.

“I haven’t ridden anything.” Rose shot him a sarcastic look, that was ruined by the blush still in her cheeks. “Except a horse, ever.” Her voice was higher pitched than normal, and James couldn’t help but giggle.

“Well you do blush like a virgin, cousin.” Jack let Caderyn take a slight lead.

“Well that’s because she is.” James cut in, trying to spare Rose anymore of his teasing.

“You’ve checked then?” Jack was obviously looking for a smack.

“James had been nothing but a selfless gentleman.” Rose rolled her eyes. She knew her cousin was teasing, but it was still a nervous topic for her. She did worry, and knew James did too, about what might have been said about him staying in her chambers. “He has never put my honor in jeopardy.” It was true. She had initiated their intimacy, but he had stood firm in his resolve to leave her intact for her wedding night.

“People are going to hear.” James nodded at the crowd that was parting before them.

Rose felt suddenly nervous. She hadn’t left the castle grounds since she arrived, and she wondered how people would react. She mimicked Jack’s posture, keeping her head up, face relaxed and easy. Nobody was shouting or trying to attack. Most were just passing by, but a few of the older citizens were staring wide eyed and whispering to each other. By the time they reached the center of the city, Rose was beginning to relax.

Movement caught her eyes, along with a sad yelp. A young boy, no older than ten, was being shoved by a large woman in a pink and brown dress covered in flour. “Why did I even waste money buying you? You can’t even sweep the floor correctly! No lunch or supper for you until you get every bit of that mess up!” She raised her hand for a slap.

“Stop! By order of your Queen!” Rose pulled sharply on the reins as she shouted. She dropped from the saddle as everybody in the vicinity froze. She heard James leap down after her, and she passed him Isolde’s reins. She swallowed her anger, striding through the crowd until she reached the pair.

“Your Grace.” The woman curtsied but the boy stared at Rose with terrified eyes and didn’t move.

“What’s your name, miss?” Rose forced her hands to keep from forming fists, and arched an eyebrow at her.

“Moriana, your grace.” The woman replied, looking a bit shocked. She was a good head taller than Rose, but to her credit she didn’t try to tower over her.

“And yours, young man?” She smiled at the boy in what she hoped was a friendly manner.

“Banton, your majesty.” His voice squeaked on the last bit, signaling his beginning stages of manhood.

“And you’re her slave?” She sized the boy up. From atop the horse he had seemed small and thin, but he was nearly Rose’s height and filling out nicely in the arms and chest.

“Indentured servant.” Banton shifted and stared down at his hands. Rose could see the shame and embarrassment in his face. She knew it, because she had felt it not even two weeks before. “My father owed her a loan and when he died, I had to come work it off.”

“I see.” Rose looked up at Moriana, clenching her jaw and trying to look as intimidating as possible. “And how much is remaining on the debt?”

“Eighty gold, your Grace.” The woman’s face was unreadable, and but her voice was nervous.

“James or Jack.” Rose didn’t need to turn to know they would be watching from just behind her. “Has Sir Rory taken on a squire yet?”

“No, my Lady.” James’ voice was a bit confused, but that didn’t matter.

Rose reached up and plucked the pearl tiara from her head. Then she pulled her dagger from it’s sheath. She edged the tip under one of the small pearls that made up the swirl in the middle, and popped it out of its setting. Then she sheathed the dagger, readjusted her tiara, and held the pearl between her fingers to show everyone watching.

“Two weeks ago. I had no idea that I was anyone other than a bastard forced into a life of being a servant.” She didn’t speak to anyone but Banton, keeping his bright blue eyes locked onto hers. “But that was not the case. Had someone not shown me kindness, humanity, the truth of who I am would never have been known. So, Banton, I give you the same gift that was given to me.” She reached out to pull his calloused bruised hand into hers. “A chance to take your freedom for yourself.” She pressed the pearl into his palm.

She could feel the people shifting around her, but she didn’t pay attention. Rose wanted to see what he would do. Banton pulled his hand away to stare at the pearl. His sweet face broke into a smile, and he turned to the woman. “Here.” He dropped the pearl into her hand and stepped away.

“Now, Banton, how would you like to become a squire to a very good man and knight?” Rose took him by the shoulder and led him away from the stunned woman.

“A squire, to a real knight?!” Banton looked ready to shout and jump around, and it made Rose laugh out loud. “It’s all I ever dream about.”

James felt a surge of pride for Rose so strong it nearly made his chest burst. When she had come to a stop, he had wanted to drag her out of the crowd, but seeing her, doing this, earning the respect of not only the adults but the children was dazzling. She helped her mount, and knew before she spoke what she was going to do. “Up you get, little squire.” He helped him swing up behind Rose, smiling as the boy gulped and clung to her waist at the height.

He and Jack remounted, letting Rose and her new friend take the lead the rest of the way out of the city to the sprawling fields beyond, as the crowd began disbursing to go spread the news of what had happened. James leaned over to the prince and whispered. “She is something else.” He couldn’t tear his eyes off of her back as he spoke

“You’re telling me.” Jack chuckled, shaking his head. “Marry her, before somebody else figures out there’s more to her than a cheeky smile and a throne.”

“I’ll take that as your blessing being her only living relative.” James felt his heart leap at the thought. He knew he was in love with her, but the idea of marrying and becoming king was not something he had totally considered. He just knew that if Rose was going to rule this way, he wanted to help her as more than just a sworn protector. He just wasn’t exactly sure how or when to ask. By tradition, she should pick from a line of suitors. Then again, Rose was so far from traditional, that it wasn’t funny.

“You’ve been besotted with her since she climbed off that horse the day you met.” Jack grinned at him as he spoke.

“Actually since she yelled at me for reading her mind in the library.” James had to set the record straight. Yes he had found Rose beautiful from the moment he saw her, but he found lots of women attractive. It had been that fire, that sass, that had drawn him in.

“Then get to it.” Jack leaned over to clap his back.

Rose felt a surge of hope as she got her first glimpse of the encampment where Lord Cole’s and her armies were set up. Lord Octavian had said the last of her soldiers had arrived this morning. The sound of work created a low din as they rode up the paths to the command tent. As they rode past, the soldiers, squires, healers, and city dwellers helping out bowed and curtsied. She got a few odd looks at her passenger, but nobody spoke on it. She spotted Captain Simmonds talking to someone. “Sir Jake!” He turned and hurried over.

“Your Grace.” He smiled pleasantly and bowed. “Lord Octavian is waiting your arrival.”

“We’re headed there now. I have a small favor to ask.” She reached back to pat Banton’s leg. “This young man is Banton. He dreams of squiring and becoming a knight. Could you please take him to Sir Rory.”

“With pleasure!” Jake reached up to help the boy slide down.

Rose beamed at the pair, happy to see the excited sparkle in Banton’s eyes. “I’ll be checking up on you, Banton. Make yourself proud.”

“I promise your Majesty!” He called over his shoulder as he followed Jake away.

“Come on, gentlemen.” Rose turned to smile at Jack and James, seeing where they were watching her with different looks of appraisal. “Lord Octavian await.” She clucked her tongue and nudged Isolde forward.

They reached the command tent a few moments later, and Rose surrendered Isolde to a nearby groom who was brushing down a stallion that was the spitting image of Isolde, only a good hand taller. The guards outside of the tent snapped to attention before parting the flap and letting them pass. Lord Octavian was standing at a table looking at a map with various pawns, with two other men who looked only slightly younger than him. “My Queen!” He smiled as he righted himself to bow.

“No need for that, my Lord.” Rose waved her hands before the other two could bow as well. “I understand we have news of Rassilon’s movements.” She stepped closer to the table, eying the pawns.

“Our spies in the surroundings areas say his army is about two days out.” Octavian frowned as he pointed to a metal gauntlet pawn. “So far it’s only the five hundred he had with him, but we always heard reports that Lady Cassandra has sided with him. Her banners are another two days behind him.”

“So we need to take his army before the O’brien banners can join with him.” Rose eyeballed the vine of grapes shaped pawn back in the area where she was raised. “I’m almost positive they will stand down once they see that he has fallen.”

“The five hundred with him are the strongest warriors in the country.” Jack shook his head and sighed. “Good men, all of them, but they can’t hope to stand up to our combined forces once Lady Centuri and Lord Samiel arrive.”

“He’s got some of the most elite spell casters.” James ran a hand through his hair, making it ruffle in a way that nearly distracted Rose. “You can guarantee they will have enchanted the soldier’s armor and weapons.”

“How can we tell?” Rose was curious. She knew warding could be placed on rooms and individual people. She had seen James do it, and the strain it brought.

“If they have jewels in their armor and weapons. They’ll be glowing.” He reached forward to tap the hilt of her dagger, which was set with small clear gems. They glowed for a moment, and he sighed. “Like that. I had the gems imbued so the blade could repel a sword. The energy will wear out, but the larger the gem the longer it will last.”

“I always wondered why he wore those diamonds in his gauntlets.” Octavian frowned, rubbing his clean shaven chin. “Now I know.”

“So we find a way to expend the energy.” Rose fiddled with the edge of the map. “What about catapulting rocks and such at them. Would that work?”

“Up until they got too close.” Jack shook his head. “They still couldn’t beat five thousand men, but they could reduce our numbers.”

“There’s just one problem.” Rose wondered why they didn’t see it, why they looked at her in confusion. “They only have to keep fighting until they kill me.”

“Which is why you are staying locked in the castle.” James fixed her with a stern look, and she bristled. “If you die-“

“Jack becomes King.” Rose cut him off, squaring herself up. “You said the soldiers wouldn’t respect me if I didn’t fight.”

“She’s right.” Lord Octavian held up his hands as the men glared daggers at him. “She should be on the field, even if in the back. Soldiers fight harder and more valiantly if their leader is in their ranks.”

“Then it’s settled.” Rose’s words made James’ stomach clench. He couldn’t stand the thought of her in harms way. Every fiber of his being rebelled against it. “I’ll need armor.”

“The armor makers should have some smaller sets that can be altered to fit you.” Octavian wasn’t smiling, but James could tell that his opinion of Rose has just increased substantially. “They are just off to the east side of camp.”

“Then that’s where I’ll go next.” James bit back his protests, not wanting to anger her. “And tonight I’ll have dinner our here, with my men. Lord Octavian. I’ll see you at dinner.”

James followed her out, seeing Jack biting back his own opinions as he stayed with Lord Octavian . This was reckless, a suicide mission. Yet, he couldn’t stop her. Shoving his irritation aside, he followed her up to the armorer’s area and stood nearby while she was fitted. “Make sure the breastplate and the helm have a jewel, preferably diamond, set into them. Then have them delivered to Her Majesty’s chambers.” To his credit, the man didn’t question his request.

It took the better part of an hour for them to find something to suit her. Then Rose insisted on visiting The weapon smith to pick out a bow, sword, and shield. She settled for a single hand blade with a gem in the pommel, a recurved bow, and a shield with a gemstone imbedded in the back. She could see the tension is James’ body, as she went about her business. She knew he was fuming, from his uncharacteristic silence.

She found a tent with a single young knight outside and asked if they could use it privately. The young man disappeared. Out with it, James.” She hissed, once the flap closed behind them.

“Do you want to die?” James’ eyes were blazing in the shadow of the tent. “Is that it? After all this, you just want to offer yourself up like a calf at spring solstice?”

“You said, and Lord Octavian agreed, that my soldiers will fight harder if I am in their ranks.” Rose crossed her arms, meeting his gaze head on. “You’ll be there, along with my entire guard. Do you doubt yourself and them the ability to keep me safe?” He wasn’t going to change her mind, because she had already made the decision.

“I’m not a soldier, Rose.” James’ voice was low and pleading as he pulled at his hair. She nearly caved in under the tone, but forced her resolve to stay strong. “I’m supposed to protect you from assassins, wild animals, or poisoned food. I can armor up and fight with the rest of them, but it’s not what I’m meant for.”

“I’m not backing down from this.” Rose tried to tell him with her eyes how this was felt, but he still looked angry, hurt, and upset. So she uncrossed her arms to grab his hands. “Look, love. Go on and look.”

James couldn’t deny the urgent pleading in her voice, so he slowly lowered his mental barriers and let his consciousness slip into her mind. She was terrified, of course, her thoughts a tumult of fear and anxiety. Under that was a steady resolve. She would willingly die if it meant Rassilon would be defeated. Yet, she also trusted James with her life, and the way she did was without doubt or hesitation. It was a pure sensation, full of love and faith. The depth of it was astounding, and he could feel the way just touching him made her feel safer than she ever felt in her life.

“Do you see?” Rose squeezed his fingers, sending waves of reassurance to him. “As long as you are with me. I know I won’t fall. I love you.”

“I love you.” James released her hands to take her face in his fingers and stroke her cheeks. “It would kill me if I lost you. Do you understand that?”

“Then keep me safe.” Rose felt her heart swell at the look on his face and the sincerity in his voice. “But don’t you die either. I meed you alive, standing beside me, holding my hand.” She pressed up on her tiptoes to offer her lips to him, feeling love fueled tears prickling her eyes. His thumbs stroked them away, like a feather on her skin, and he captured her in the softest, most lingering kiss that they had shared. She had never given serious thought to marriage or children before, but she knew that James was the one she wanted. She wanted to be his wife, to watch as he doted on their children, and to see him sitting next to her on the throne. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew that her parents would approve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Caderyn](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/1272/8077/files/WHITE_FRIESIAN_FLOWERS_1600X_ec245ad2-509a-483b-bb91-b8c567009390.jpg?v=1493492931)
> 
> [Gallifrey](https://i.ytimg.com/vi/XY3E4niL5Mc/hqdefault.jpg)
> 
> [Isolde](https://i.pinimg.com/236x/8b/a8/67/8ba86714428b90406819b571c50c1273--percheron-horses-dressage-horses.jpg)


	15. Lucy’s Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning:  
> References to miscarriage  
> References to domestic violence  
> Unwanted telepathy
> 
> Sorry for the delayed update. Been job hunting and doing interviews all week!!!

James was a ball of frantic nerves. It was all he could do to keep his food settled in his stomach. Dinner was long past over, the waning moon, fires, and torches giving light to a field full of songs, laughter, and the sound of swords and horses. At the center of it all was his queen.

Rose looked breathtaking. Her tiara and severe braids were abandoned so her hair could flow freely. She was seated near the largest of fires, on a log just across from him. She was laughing freely at a joke one of Lord Cole’s soldiers had just told her, her wine skin clutched to her leather clad chest as she did.

“Just go do it.” Jack hissed in his ear. “It gets harder the more you think about it.”

James swallowed, clutching his own wineskin in his hand. “I can’t. What if she says no?” He had never felt more anxious about anything in his life.

“And those thoughts are what kept me from proposing to Donna for two years.” His best friend yanked his wineskin from his hands, drawing Lord Octavian’s gaze from where he sat next to Rose.

“There’s too many people. I don’t want her to feel pressured.” James tried to snag his drink back, but Jack leapt to his feet, taking it frustratingly out of reach.

“A toast!” Jack’s voice made everyone still, even Rose, and turn to him. “To a land not ruled by fear, but by respect and love!”

“Cheers to that!” Rose’s flushed cheeks brightened as she smiled. “And to family and new friends!” The crowd around them stomped their boots and called out cheers. It took James all too long to figure out what was going on, and he felt his face flush and his heart begin to race.

“Speaking of new friends, family, and love.” Jack looked down at him with a wild smile. “I had quite the conversation today. Seeing as I’m the Queen’s only living relative that she claims, and that I am, in fact, the eldest male of the family, I have been asked to consent to a matter, and I did.” He cleared his voice and looked pointedly at James.

Rose’s eyes narrowed in confusion, as James watched her listen. He knew she was a tad tipsy from her drinks, because her emotions were a bit hazy. Feeling every eye on him, he stood and circled around the fire. He extended his hand to her, swallowing back his nerves as she placed her fingers in his. He helped her stand, meeting those honey eyes that were slowly brightening with understanding in the firelight.

“When I first met you. I saw a fire and determination in you that left me floored. You had every right to hate me after our first conversation, but you forgave me.” James stroked his thumb over her fingers, smiling now in response to the look of adoration and hope on her face. He ignored the soft whispers beginning to spread as people were waved over. “I got to know Rose O’brien before I had any idea who you really were, and I was already smitten by you. Then, I learned the truth. I thought for sure you would cut off my feelings, accepting me only as your protector. Yet, you chose to let me see even more of you, the very essence of who you are, with such trust that I am still in wonder. I have no land, no formal title, but I will always be your first Man, your sworn protector. I have nothing to offer except my heart and my love.” Bowing his head, James dropped to one knee, holding her fingers lightly. “I humbly ask if you would render unto me the highest honor I can imagine, and that is to be your husband.”

The whispers were silent, and Rose swore even the animals were holding their breath. James wanted to marry her, for her, not her crown, her body, or her titles. He truly did adore her. She had only one answer, and ignoring all etiquette she dropped to her own knees, lifted his chin with her free hand, and let her tears of joy fall freely. “Your love is all I’ll ever need.” The crowd around them roared as she captured his lips in a kiss. It was a soft press of lips at first, but then he fell to the side, pulling her with him.

Her squeal of surprise sent the soldiers around them into laughter. She pulled away to blush at the fact that she was sprawled very unqueen-like across James’ chest, she found nothing but happiness on their faces. Some were sending their squires away, and she knew the news would be spread by morning. “I love you.” She grinned, kissing his cheek as she scrambled back to her feet.

“And I love you, my precious girl.” James brushed her hair back, feeling the waves of pure, unbridled joy wafting off of her as he beamed down at her.

“A toast, to the Queen and her future King!” Lord Octavian shouted out. They both blushed as everyone cheered and raised their wine skins.

Rose lost track of much of what happened after that. Instruments were brought out, and the music and dancing she was accustomed to took hold. One moment she was holding James’ hands as he spun her. The next she was swept away by one of her own guards, being lifted high from behind as she trilled out a chorus to a song. She was skipped around by Lord Octavian, dipped low by Jack, and then arm in arm with two maidens who had come up from the town in an attempt to find a husband in the troops. Everything was a blur of moonbeams, firelight, wine, soldiers’ smiles, and laughter.

It wasn’t until she felt like her legs had lost all feeling, her face and ribs ached in breathless abandon, and the chill of the midnight due shivered her skin that she found herself being passed to a waiting James. “Bedtime for the Queen.” He chuckled, scooping her into his arms and carrying her to Isolde. With his help, she mounted, humming the tune that was still drifting away over the early morning grass.

Some part of her knew that tonight would be the last time some of those men she had danced with would ever laugh again. Tomorrow they would prep for war, and go to bed wondering if they’d ever go home to their families. As Isolde picked her way through the empty street, following Gallifrey to the portcullis, Rose admired the sleepy city through wine flushed eyes. The waning moon lit the stones, walls, and roofs, sparkling the dew there like a million diamonds. The castle loomed up on the hill above the town, silver in the night with flickering golden windows. It was like magic. “Home.” She sighed, somewhere between contentment and dread.

“Yes, and I’m sure mother is full of worry about you being out so late.” James nodded to the guards who raised the portcullis. Rose drunk was without a doubt the most endearing thing he’d ever seen or felt. That underlying hardness of her past was gone, washing away the edge her attitude usually held. She looked and felt wonderstruck at her surroundings, a sort of innocence radiating from her. She looked, in his opinion, like a star goddess who had stolen down from the sky to walk among the humans. He half expected one of the long fabled unicorns to come galloping out of the forest beyond the castle to steal her back to the heavens.

“You look like a prince from a fairy tale.” Rose’s giggle made him blush, as Isolde came up to walk side by side with Gallifrey. “All tousled hair with fair lips and enticing eyes.”

“I was thinking something similar about you.” He slid down from Gallifrey as they reached the steps and helped her to dismount. Sure enough, Sarah Jane came hurrying out, in her night robe, face tight with worry. “I’ll tend to the horses. Go on inside, my Lady.”

Rose smiled as Sarah Jane draped an arm around her as James wandered off with the sleepy horses. It was, she realized, a maternal touch, one she had been neglected since infancy. “I’m gonna be your daughter.” She let her wine fueled joy come out as a sigh. “If that’s all right?”

“Pardon?” Sarah Jane looked a bit stunned as they froze just inside the doors. “My daughter? Wait? Did James-“

“He proposed, and I said yes.” Rose wrapped her arms around the woman who had been so thoughtful to her needs before they even met face to face.

“Oh, Rose. That’s more than all right!” Sarah Jane’s laugh as she squeezed her was perfect. When they separated, she saw tears in her eyes. “If you had any idea how much I missed you all these years, you’d know I couldn’t be happier.”

“I get to have a mum.” Rose felt her own tears beginning as Sarah Jane ushered her to her quarters to bathe. A family, she was going to have a real family, with a mum and cousins and an aunt and a grandfather. “All I ever wanted was a family.” She sniffled as she pulled on her night dress and settled onto the couch by the fire to sip some tea. Everything felt light, sort of spinning, as exhaustion creeped into her veins. It was to Sarah Jane combing her hair that she began to doze, but the sensation of James lifting her into bed and tucking her in is why lulled her into full sleep.

Some part of her remembered the dreams, voices calling her name, telling her to beware the coming storm, but they came and went so fast she couldn’t hold onto them. It was like tying to pull fog into her hands. Every time the voices became clearer, the sensation of being cradled and kissed on her brow chased them away. Still, it was voices that pulled her from sleep just before dawn.

“Wake up you, Lord Samiel has entered town and our scouts say Lady Centuri is just an hour behind him.” Donna’s voice made Rose wince, as her head pounded. “Aunt Sarah is in the kitchens getting the breakfast feast ready.”

“Close the curtains.” Rose tried to pull the pillow over her head. “Too bright, hurts my eyes.” She realized James’ side of the bed was empty. “Where’s James.”

“Getting dressed and making you a potion for your headache and nausea.” Donna sighed and rolled her eyes.

“What nausea?” As soon as Rose sat up, she got her answer. She nearly tripped to make it into the bathroom and empty the bile in her stomach. She felt like she had been tied to s horse and drug through the city. Everything felt achy and weak. “Stars above.” She tried to remember the night before, but everything was a blur, everything except James on his knee.

“And that’s what happens when you spend your evening with the soldiers.” Donna snickered, passing her a damp rag and pointing to the chair by the makeup Sarah Jane and Amy had given her. “James is still refusing to let anyone but us in here, so I need to get you ready. You look like death.”

“Thanks Donna.” Rose usually appreciated the woman’s lack of filter, but right now she was irritable. She flopped down unceremoniously in the makeup chair, as a knock echoed. “Who is it?”

“Just me. I have something for your head and stomach.” The door cracked and a purple vial poked into the room. Donna walked over to take it and shut the door.

Rose unstoppered it and chugged it back, expecting it to taste horrible, but it reminded her of fresh berries and a hint of boiled greens. She shrugged as she sat it down and went to work on her makeup while Donna pulled her hair back into a braided twist. By the time they were finished, her headache had subsided and her stomach felt steady.

“Sarah Jane managed to get some new outfits in yesterday.” Donna pointed to a pile of black and silver material.

Rose was expecting a dress, but what she found was even more startling. She had more leggings, which she found she preferred over skirts, that laced up the sides and covered her abdomen to her ribs. The top portion had mail to protect her stomach and vital organs. The top was a heavy cotton, laced up the front, only covered some of her shoulders, and was was trimmed in thick leather. There was a pleated leather part that went around her waist, adorned in thick metal circles. A cloak fastened over one shoulder and under the arm of the other.

At first she thought it was just crushed velvet, but when she lifted it, she found the underside was also sewn with mail. It draped over her left arm, leaving her right free to draw her dagger, that she buckled around her waist. She found that it could be pulled completely around her body to create a full coverage shield. The boots were of the same material, but as she pulled them on and fasted the straps, she found that they, too, had the fine mail to protect her legs up to her knee. A pair of fingerless gloves that went up to her biceps completed the ensemble, thickened with flexible leather over the top. To complete the ensemble, Donna slid a silver tiara with dark pearls and gemstones onto her head.

“Let’s go. Lord Samiel is waiting.” Donna half dragged her away from the looking glass and into the bedroom.

James turned from where he was staring out at the castle grounds below and nearly lost all coherent thought. Rose looked terrifyingly gorgeous. The outfit made her look like a warrior but regal all the same. “You, wow, I mean.”

“Yes, she looks gorgeous, stop gawking and get moving.” Donna snorted as she rolled her eyes at them. James snapped his jaw shut and extended his arm to Rose, who took it. As she moved, he heard the tale tell tinkle of mail and realized that the outfit served as protection as well as looking fierce. He had to remember to thank his mother for that.

“That potion worked it’s magic.” James was relieved at her words. Potions weren’t his forte, as they were for his mum, but he had followed her recipe exactly. “Can’t wait to eat.” To his delight, her pace wasn’t slow and limping like the day before. She seemed to be recovered.

“Lord Samiel is waiting in the throne room.” James smiled down at her, giving Rose the same fluttery feeling she had felt the first time they kissed. The fact that they were now engaged was still a bit astounding.

“We’ll keep it brief, so that he can rest.” Rose knew the ride from the mountains had to be harsh. She took the lead to the throne room, and when the doors parted, she was treated to the sight of the second most attractive man she had ever met in her life.

Lord Samiel was tall, surpassing James by a good two inches. He was more muscular than he had seemed in the mirror, which was only accented by the riding clothes he wore. His short dark hair shone in the morning light coming in the windows and his nearly black eyes sparkled in good nature as he turned to bow. He had rich tanned skin and a full bottom lip that turned up in a smile. “My Queen.”

“Rise, Lord Samiel.” Rose had to swallow back a blush as he righted himself and extended a hand. She placed her fingers in his, and turned to arch an eyebrow at James as the lord made a show of kissing her hand. “I’m glad you made it here in such good time.”

“Had I known you were worried, I’d have hurried quicker, your Grace.” His voice was a mix of debonair flirtation and utter respect. Despite being twice her age, she had to admit the man was gorgeous. “Congratulations on your engagement.” He turned his eyes on James, who she could see was watching with a thinly veiled look of warning. “Is this the lucky man?”

“Truth be told, I’m the lucky one, my Lord.” Rose pulled her fingers away to loop her arm through James’ and press into his side. Having a jealous fiancé was not a good idea. “He is more than anything I ever hoped to find in a husband.” Her words worked, because James relaxed to smile down at her.

“Nothing stirs the heart quite like new love.” Samiel laughed, and James tried to not dislike the man. He knew he was an ally, but Lord Samiel had a reputation of being a bigger flirt than Jack, who was currently kissing his own wife good morning. He knew there was no competition, but he still felt a twinge of jealousy at the blush on Rose’s cheeks. He could feel the fact that she was flattered, and he could also feel that she had no interest in the man that way.

“Come, my Lord, breakfast is waiting right this way. Lady Centuri should be here soon.” Rose gestured to the door that led to the main dining room.

“She’s on her way through the city now.” Jack chimed in, joining their small procession out of the throne room. “She arrived when you were dressing.”

“Great.” Rose took her seat at the head of the table, with James on her right and Jack and Donna on her left. “Did you speak with Lord Octavian on your arrival?” She was curious to know, as discussing battle tactics was far over her head.

“No, he was out on a patrol.” Lord Samiel shook his head as he took his seat. “But I left my war counsel to wait for him.”

“Very good.” Rose accepted the cup of tea from one of the young servants and smiled gratefully at her. “Thank you. Now, as an update, Lady Cassandra has sided with him, and we have reason to believe their armor may be enchanted.”

“Well that sounds a bit disheartening.” A friendly woman’s voice drew Rose’s gaze to the door, as a charming woman who looked to be in her late forties stepped into the room. She, too, wore riding leathers and sported a plain eyepatch over one eye. “Well met, my Queen.” She curtsied briefly.

“Lady Centuri!” Rose stood to smile at the woman, extending her hand for a welcoming shake. “Please, join us. You must be tired and hungry after such a long trip.”

“Thank you! I am, but it is no matter.” The woman smiled broadly at Jack and Donna. “And I hear congratulations are in order. So glad to hear Lady Donna finally strong armed you into actually getting married, Prince Jack.”

“He didn’t put up much of a fight!” Donna laughed as she stood to hug the woman. “You look well, Lady Centuri. I haven’t seen you in a few years. Congratulations are in order for our Queen. She is engaged to Sir James.”

“Well, then my well wishes to this future union as well.” Rose knew she instantly liked this woman. Something about her just seemed to make everyone smile and feel at ease. “Lord Samiel, glad to see you made it as well.”

“Yes, well sit so we can eat and discuss everything.” Samiel flashed her a roguish grin and it was easy to see that there either was or had been some chemistry between them in the past. He stood to pull out the chair beside him. Once she was seated, Rose retook her own.

She waited until the food had been served before she turned to the table. “Now, from what we’ve learned, Rassilon should be approaching some time before noon tomorrow. Lady Cassandra is just behind him. Will your troops be ready for battle that soon?”

“Of course.” Samiel spoke first, nodding. “I ordered them all to rest as soon as they were situated.

“As did I.” Lady Centuri chimed in. “My ships should arrive near sundown, and those men will be ready as well.”

James watched as Rose did her best to maintain her air of confidence, but he could feel the tingle of her insecurity for lack of knowledge on military tactics. Under the table he squeezed her thigh reassuringly, trying to convey what a good job she was doing. “If I may interject, Lord Octavian and Prince Jack are handling all of our military strategies and maneuvering. After breakfast we were going to meet with the war counsel.”

“Yes.” He was pleased to see Jack had picked up on his cue. Rose relaxed some, and he felt the nervousness begin to fade away. “Since we are all friends and allies here. There is no need to maintain the facade that our Queen is a master of battle.”

“I was wondering.” Lady Centuri’s smile was warm. “Not that I was questioning her of course. This must all be relatively new to you, your Grace.”

Rose let out a breath and met their eyes. She had been dreading that they were expecting her to be something she wasn’t. “It is, but while Jack and Lord Octavian will be commanding from the front, I will still be in the battle.” She gave a smile at their looks of surprise. “I will be with the rear guard and archers. Soldiers fight better knowing their leaders are with them.”

“Well said.” Lord Samiel seemed to be examining her in a new light, and she realized he had not expected her to fight at all. She saw James frown beside her, and she knew he was still unhappy with the choice. “Although I get the feeling not all support this decision.”

“Those closest to me obviously don’t want me to put myself in harms way.” She squeezed James’ hand under the table. “But still, if I want to be as respected as my parents, I must earn the respect. A crown does not make a queen.”

The conversations thereafter were mostly pleasant exchanges, as the silent agreement to discuss tactics at the war counsel took hold. Rose savored the happy moment, knowing full well that everyone present might not get this moment again.

She rode out to the counsel with her new allies, sitting silently as they discussed troop positioning. She found that she learned quiet a bit from listening in, observing, and asking for explanations. Rose found that after the first few hours, she began to understand why certain soldiers needed to be positioned where, how pikemen, swordsmen, calvary, archers, and the many others set up the differences in offensive and defensive positions. It was just after noon when a ruckus drew them out of the tents.

Two men were leading a horse with a very disgruntled woman gagged and tied to the saddle. “LUCY!” Lord Cole shoved past Rose without another word and raced to the trio. she nodded to James who followed after him. Lord Cole untied her binds and pulled the gag from her mouth.

“TAKE ME BACK!” Lucy screamed, trying to dash away as soon as she was free. “I want my husband!” She struggled as her father seized her around the waist.

Rose saw a crowd forming, soldiers and citizens alike. “Nothing to see here folks. Go on back about your business.” She let her voice hold authority but still try to deescalate the situation. “Lord Cole, get her inside the command tent and let James examine her.”

James went back inside the tent and cleaned off a chair. “Tie her wrists and ankles down. Gagging won’t be necessary.” He felt his stomach clench as he mentally prepared himself for what he needed to do. He shed his coat and rolled up his sleeves as Lucy was forced into the chair and bound. “Lord Cole, I must ask that you do not touch either of us during this. It will be painful. She will cry out. She is going to beg and plead for you to stop me, but you can’t.”

“Can you really do this?” He could hear the doubt in the man’s voice, the fear for his child.

James nodded as he pulled a chair over to sit in front of Lucy. “Hello Lady Saxon.” Her panicked blue eyes locked onto him and her crying gave way to whimpering sobs. “You want to go back to your husband don’t you?” He pulled a kerchief from his pocket to dab her cheek as she gave a sniffling nod. “Well before we can let you go, I just need to make sure you’re okay.”

“Are you a healer?” Her voice was hoarse from screaming, and he could see small rips in her lower lip from straining against the gag.

“Yes, sort of, well my speciality is illnesses of the mind.” He dried her other cheek, keeping his voice light and friendly although he felt underlying dread at what he was about to do. “I understand you lost a baby a few months ago. I bet your mind has not been a very friendly place for you since then, has it?”

“No,” More tears threatened to spill over as her voice cracked. James could see a flicker of her there, behind the frantic compulsion to get to her husband.

“Would you like some wine or tea for your throat and tongue? That gag and screaming must have them very raw.” He extended his hand to receive whatever she requested.

“Wine please.” At her words a wine skin was handed to him, and he saw that it was the one Rose had been sipping from. He didn’t dare break eye contact to look.

“Here, my Lady.” James unstoppered it to hold it to her lips. “There’s a love. Drink up.” He pulled the wine skin back when she finally turned her head. Most of the liquid was gone. That was good. Alcohol made slipping into the mind so much easier. He passed the wineskin behind him, keeping her tear filled eyes on his. Cautiously he extended his fingers to her temples and slipped into her mind.

Immediately he was engulfed in a swirling tempest of darkness and fog. The light that usually signified a conscious mind was obscured. It pushed at his own mind, trying to gain dominance, but he forced it back. He aimed his own mental signature into daggers, cutting and shredding the fog as it tried to push forward. Slowly, hazardously, he found the eye of the storm. It was a ball of darkness, tinged with a malevolent cold white glow. “Dimeserunt eam mane.” He ordered both aloud and mentally. Lucy began to scream as the glowing grew brighter. It shot out at his thoughts, like lightning striking a tree. “Dimeserunt eam mane!” He shouted, fighting back against the pain. “Hic non habes postestatem!”

“DADDY! MAKE HIM STOP!” Lucy tried to yank herself away, her shrill screech nearly breaking his concentration. “DADDY IT HURTS!”

James vaguely registered a scuffling noise behind him as he clutched her face and shoved forward with all of his power. “Idcirco praecipio tibi ut eam dimittere!” He surged forward, pressing his brow to hers, forcing the otherness to retreat in on itself. He felt it clawing deeper into her mind, trying to rip her consciousness apart. With a furious growl he dug his fingers into her skin, ignoring the guttural screams Lucy was emitting. He pushed his thoughts into a single javelin of power and might and drove it into the heart of the glow. It fought, pushed back, but slowly began to fracture. With a cry of his own, he stabbed deeper, harder, forcing their foreheads so hard together that he could feel the pulse beneath her skin. “Et nunc absolvo vos.” James screamed in pain as the glow exploded, shocking them both as it lit up their minds. Then it was gone, her mind free of all but his and her own thoughts.

He wrenched himself out, stumbling back into the chair, missing, and hitting the tramped down grass and dirt. Nothing was in focus as he stared up at the red material of the ceiling, struggling to breath as he clutched at his own head.

“Daddy? Where am I?” The shakiness of Lucy’s voice made him breathe a sigh of relief. He had done it, barely, but he had freed her.

“James.” Rose’s face, slick with tears and smeared makeup swam into view. “James are you okay.” He tried to speak, to respond, but he couldn’t muster the energy.

“Get him into a chair, and bring tea and food.” Rose snapped over her shoulder as she stroked James’ pale face. The process had taken nearly an hour, and she knew he needed to recharge himself. “NOW!” She looked up at the people frozen in shock. Lord Cole had untied Lucy and was sitting on the ground, cradling her like a toddler.

Donna, bless that woman, seemed to be ahead of the game because she came rushing in with a tea tray leading some confused looking squires who were carrying bread and meat. “You heard Rose!” She barked. “Pick my cousin up and put him in a chair.”

Rose moved aside as Jack and Octavian grabbed James under the arms and lifted him into a chair. His eyes were half shut, his head lolling like a newborn as they held him in place. She picked up the tea cup, sipping it to make sure it wasn’t too hot, and held it to his lips. Her heart pounded as he didn’t drink, and she tipped the cup so some trickled into his mouth. He coughed a bit, before he shakily closed his fingers over her hand to hold the cup and sip. She bit her lip, blinking back more tears as he sighed and dropped his hand when the cup was empty. “Have some bread now.” She broke some off as he kept his head up and his eyes opened wider. They look glazed, like someone sleep walking.

“Meat.” He groaned, waving the bread away. “Need meat.”

Rose grabbed a chunk of the meat, moving it to his lips until he leaned forward to catch it between his teeth. He choked a bit as he chewed, but before she could help him, he sat up straighter to grab the plate and yank it towards him and began to unceremoniously tear into it. James was going to be fine. Reassured of that she turned to Lord Cole and Lucy.

Lord Cole was standing and holding his daughter, who looked to be sleeping, in his arms. “She doesn’t remember anything since the miscarriage three months ago.” His normally firm voice was broken. “She said it’s like she was asleep.”

Rose was torn. She wanted to stay with James, but the way he was devouring the food said he was recovering well. Lucy looked a mess, so thin and fragile in her father’s arms. “Let’s take her to the castle. Sarah Jane will be able to care for her.” She looked back at James who glanced up from shoving a banana into his mouth and waved her on. She stepped out of the tent, watching as people scattered. Isolde and Gallifrey were tied out front, but she did not see Lord Cole’s horse.

“My mount is having his armor refitted.” Lord Cole explained her wordless question.

“The black mare is mine. Her name is Isolde. You can ride her.” Rose waved a guard over to take Lucy as Lord Cole mounted. She accepted help mounting Gallifrey, who seemed puzzled but unphased by her on his back. She led them up to the castle, studiously ignoring the whispers from the city dwellers. As they approached the steps inside she called out. “One of you fetch Sarah Jane, quickly. The other help Lord Cole with Lucy.”

It was a longer drop from Gallifrey’s back that Isolde’s, but she made it without stumbling. By the time she had passed the reins to a groom and instructed him to return Gallifrey to James, Sarah Jane was coming out. “Oh my stars. Lady Lucy! Bring her inside.” Rose let her future mother in law take command, following behind as they made their way to a guest room just passed her own. She turned back the sheets on the bed herself, so that Lord Cole could tuck his daughter into the bed. “What happened?” Sarah Jane’s hands glowed as she ran them over the woman’s body.

“James had to take something out of her mind. She was brainwashed. It took everything he had.” Rose explained, falling into her well known servants’ role and began preparing a bowl of warm water from the bathing room and grabbing a rag. When she came back out, Lord Cole was facing away. Sarah Jane had undressed Lucy, and Rose could see bruises and scrapes over her body. The woman looked like she had been used and beaten in ways that could barely be described. The only thing unmarred were her hands and face.

Rose dashed out to the Smiths quarters and got the bag of medicinal herbs and balms she knew Sarah Jane kept in her room. She hurried it back, asking a passing made to bring in food and drink for Sarah Jane and to retrieve one of Rose’s night dresses. Once back inside the room, she stripped off her cloak, gloves, tiara, and dagger belt. She began cleaning the freshest of wounds gently as Sarah Jane muttered under her breath and sighed periodically. She didn’t want to disturb the woman, so she kept quiet. She was barely aware of the maid making tea for Lord Cole, and even less aware of the passing time. It wasn’t until Sarah Jane let herself fall into a chair and wipe her brown that she realized it was sunset outside the window.

Lucy’s skin was fresh and healed, showing no sign of her injuries except where the new skin glowed pink. She emptied out what must have been the thirtieth bowl of dirty water and carefully dressed Lucy in the nightgown. She fought back a sigh of exhaustion herself, as she tucked the sheets in and combed the woman’s hair back with her fingers.

“Is she all right?” Lord Cole’s hand on her shoulder made her jump, as she turned to look up at the man.

“Exhausted, and she’ll probably sleep until noon tomorrow. She had some internal bruising and infection.” Sarah Jane explained, her hands shaking as she lifted a tea cup to her face. “I managed to stop most of it, but she’ll need to take some potions for the next week to make sure the infection doesn’t return. Whoever treated her miscarriage did not fully purge her womb.” Rose realized that was what most of the blooding rags and water had been, and something deep inside of her ached for the sleeping Lucy. “But, after my spells and treatments, she should have no issue bearing children in the future.”

“Thank you.” Lord Cole touched his daughters cheeks, and when he looked at them both, Rose saw tears in his eyes. She had never seen a man cry besides James, and she realized the fear and heartache Lord Cole had been harboring must be beyond her own comprehension. “Both of you.” He drew a shaky breath, before facing Rose fully. “I will not lie that I harbored doubts about your ability to rule, your Grace. You have shown me, but assisting with my sweet Lucy has shown me that you are indeed fit to wear that crown. No other queen would have attended her so, except your mother. Forgive me for doubting you.” He bowed his head, shoulders trembling.

“There is nothing to forgive.” Rose felt her heart swell in affection for this man and touched his arm. When he raised his head she went up on her toes to kiss his cheek softly. “As your Queen, I order you to rest as you see fit. You’ll need your full strength to avenge the crimes against your daughter.”

“As you command, my Lady.” He smiled grimly and turned to sit beside his daughter.

Rose moved to help Sarah Jane to her feet. She let the woman lean on her as she led her back to her own quarters. “You rest too. I’ll fix you something to eat.” Sarah Jane opened her mouth to protest, but Rose went to work digging in the cabinets of the small kitchen area. There wasn’t much, just ingredients to make some midnight snacks and some fresh vegetables. She knew Sarah Jane usually ate with James and Jack or with the kitchen staff. Still, she found enough salted meat and seasoning to make a thick stew.

She was just ladling it into a bowl when James came in, looking tired but seeming to have regained most of his strength. “There you are. I was worried. I couldn’t feel you. Your emotions were completely blank until a few moments ago.” His words confused her, as did the look of relief on his face.

“My emotions? What do you mean?” Rose handed Sarah Jane the bowl and collapsed next to her on the small sofa. She suddenly felt drained and weak. It occurred to her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. Before she could blink, James was making her a bowl. Then she realized what he had said. “You can tell when I’m hungry?”

“Yes, or in pain or happy or sad.” He handed her the bowl. “Right now I know you feel like you could go to sleep right here and not move for hours. I don’t know how, but I think it has to do with my oath. I’m bound to you.” She sighed too tired to feel anxious about it as he touched her cheek.

“I guess it must be stronger with love.” Sarah Jane spoke making them both jerk. Rose had forgotten she was there for a moment. “Your father could only tell when Pete was angry, upset, or in danger. It is a side effect of the bond.”

Rose ate her stew slowly, letting this news sink in. James really did love her. She hadn’t doubted it exactly, but if what they were saying was true, then his love truly did belong to her. It was as comforting as it was exhilarating. “I’m sorry I worried you. I was tending to Lucy with your mum. I wasn’t really feeling or thinking.” She saw the bags under his eyes ease, and she realized he was just as exhausted, if not more, than she and Sarah Jane were. “We should sleep. Tomorrow we fight, and who knows when it will be over.”

“Take her to bed James. I’ll clean up.” Rose leaned over to kiss her soon to be mother on the cheek before James pulled her to her feet.

She didn’t even think about propriety or his gorgeous body as she beckoned him to her tub to bathe. Rose just relished his nearness, as drowsy as clumsy as their touches were. Then, without hesitating, she dimmed her own lamps and snuffed the candles before he could, and crawled into her bed. “Hold me.” She held out her arms, humming happily as he ignored his blankets on the sofa and climbed up next to her. Their lips had just brushed in a soft goodnight kiss, when sleep beckoned her down. Curled against his bare chest, she slept without dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Roses’s Outfit](https://tv-fanatic-res.cloudinary.com/iu/s--dfAXbx0v--/t_full/cs_srgb,f_auto,fl_strip_profile.lossy,q_auto:420/v1510083387/regina-is-fierce-once-upon-a-time.jpg)   
>  [Tiara](http://s3.weddbook.com/t4/2/4/2/2423657/black-pearl-and-crystal-bridal-headband-tiara-jewelboxballerina.jpg)


	16. Rassilon

James was adjusting Isolde’s armor that protected the mare’s hindquarters. It was just after sunrise, and Rose was inside the armorer’s tent being strapped into her armor. They had received word just before dawn that Rassilon’s forces had gathered at the other side of the field. They had yer to make a move though. Isolde was anxious, as was Gallifrey. His own stallion was suited up as well, but his armor was studded with gems along his neck and hindquarters, special armor designed to allow James to draw energy from the precious stones in battle.

Isolde had never seen battle, although she was trained for it. Yet, the fervor of the soldiers around her, and the guarded fear seemed to have the mare on edge. “Stablis, puella.” James cooed to her, moving forward to scratch at the base of her mane. “Et omnia bene.” At his words, she let out a snort and stopped side stepping. Gallifrey stepped closer to them, lipping at her braids affectionately.

“You’re going to have to teach me the language of spellcasters some time.” Rose’s voice made him turn. She looked so different suited for battle. She was not fit enough to wear full plating yet, so most of her regalia was thick mail that covered her torso and hung down to the top of her thighs. Plating did protect her shoulders, thighs, calves, and feet. Bracers were strapped to her arms, but her hands were only protected by leather gloves. Set into each plate of armor was a shining gem, that he, Martha, his mother, and his aunt had infused with protective energy since the armor was cast. She had a bow and quiver on her back and a single hand sword hung on her hip. Tucked under her left arm was a helm, etched to look like a wolf howling. “What are you staring at?”

“I barely recognized you like that.” His chest felt tight, as every fiber of his being roared at him to get her to safety. He stepped away from Isolde to cup her cheek. “You look like a warrior, but we both know you aren’t.”

“No, but I promised these people that I would be a good queen, and a good queen rides with her soldiers.” Rose sighed as she turned her face to kiss his gloved palms. She was absolutely terrified, but no amount of dread was going to make her leave her people now. A soft drum beat began far into the heart of the camp, each beat tolling the bloodshed about to occur. “It’s time, my love. Help me mount.” She swallowed hard, clenching her fists as she stepped bast him to Isolde. She had hardly recognized her mare, as pristinely braided and armored as she was. She mounted with some difficulty due to her attire, and gathered the reins in her hands.

“Follow me, my Queen, my Lord.” A mounted soldier, that she couldn’t identify but was wearing Lady Centuri’s colors drew their attention. She nudged Isolde forward, feeling the anxious energy in her mare’s every move. As they broke free of the tents and to the sprawling field, she saw the army spread out before her. She was led to a line of mounted archers and spearman, taking the center position next to one of Lord Cole’s commanders. All was still, and it seemed even the wind was waiting for a signal.

Suddenly, a trumpet from the far end of the field in Rassilon’s troops sounded. That’s when the roar began. Rose couldn’t see any of it, as she was at the back of the army, but she could hear it. The sound of hooves and boots echoed like a thunderstorm, and the ring of steel on steel shattered the morning air. Isolde whinnied, mirroring the silent scream inside Rose, before executing a short rear. Swallowing a yelp and keeping her seat, Rose eased her in a circle to keep her calm. She saw James frowning straight ahead, and Gallifrey’s ears were pinned flat against his head.

“They are holding.” The commander spoke, interpreting the various drum beats, shouts, and horn calls. “But keep ready.”

Rose reached back to bring her bow around, resting it on the saddle with an arrow. She hated this waiting, this feeling of doing nothing. Even though she was here, she felt like she was hiding.

“Don’t even think about it.” James didn’t mean to growl, but he could feel his internal struggle amplified by hers. “You agreed to stay here, and you will.” He wanted to reach out, grab Isolde’s reins, and turn the horse around. He wanted to force Rose back to the castle to wait it out, but he couldn’t.

“I want to fight!” Rose realized she did. She wanted to be there with her men, by their side, not cowering behind their blades and shields.

“You may yet get your wish.” The commander growled sharply, as he turned his horse. “Signalers just announced a group of about seven are trying to sneak past on the right flank and come in.” He raised his voice with a bark. “Right shield bearers and pikemen, stand ready!” Rose turned Isolde to face and saw the shield-bearers plant themselves firmly. “Archers, on my mark!” Her adrenaline coursing, she readied the arrow in her bow. She saw a group break past the line and surge towards them, they moved inhumanly fast. “Aim” she briefly saw James nock an arrow of his own as she focused her thoughts on the middle soldier. “Fire!”

She let the arrow loose, watching as it fell short of the men. Without thinking, she reached back to grab another. She notched again, took aim, and released. Time seemed to slow down, making everything in her line of sight more focused and intense. This one found its mark, just as another did. The arrow sunk solidly into the man’s exposed eye, as the other caught the exposed area of his throat just above his armor, and he stumbled a few steps forward before falling to the ground. The reality of what she had just done coursed through her as she grabbed for another arrow. Her stomach churned at the thought that she had just killed someone, and her hand faltered as bile rose in her throat.

“Rampaging boar.” James shouted at her, loosening another of his own arrows. “Pretend they are rampaging boar.” Some detached part of her remembered he could read her emotions, which she still needed to know more about. The bile retreated, but her stomach still churned. Two other men had fallen, and the other five were hacking at the shield-bearers. She watched, unable to get a clear shot, as the pikemen stopped them from advancing.

“Thank you, “ Rose gasped, turning Isolde back to face the main line of troops. James’ advice helped her block it out, and it was a lucky thing too, because the line in front of her was moving. They surged forward, and she followed automatically.

James signaled Gallifrey forward as they got the order to advance. The battle before them, as he trotted next to Rose, was still small but brutal. Some of Rassilon’s troops, with enchanted armor, had forced their way through into the heart of the army. They were fighting with reckless abandon, seeming to care only about killing as many as possible with no regard of their own safety.

He didn’t have to block out Rose’s emotions now, as she had settled into a single mindedness of fighting. She was completely numb to his senses. His blood tingled as a soldier drew close to her, but before he could summon a spell or shout a warning, Isolde reared up with a deadly trumpeting sound and struck out with her hooves. He watched as the soldier fell, and the now angry mare stomped down on his head. The helm flew off, and he saw rather than heard the skull cave in.

“Good girl!” Rose’s praise was drowned out as a voice echoed over the battlefield.

“Bastard Usurper! Why do you hide?” The sound of Rassilon’s voice made his blood chill. “Come and face me!”

“Rose! Don’t!” James panicked as Rose tensed in her saddle then kicked Isolde into the heart of the battle. “Follow them!” He barked at Gallifrey, digging his heels in and holding tightly as his brilliant stallion gave chase.

Rose only realized what she had done, after Isolde leapt over a fallen horse and rider. She couldn’t turn back now, as the fighting around her became more gruesome. She vaguely heard James calling her to stop, but she couldn’t. She was seeing red now, as an anger unlike anything she had ever known boiled inside of her. She had only seen paintings of Rassilon, but there was no mistaking the man in swirling red robes and golden armor.

He was standing, with a wicked looking blonde man beside him in all black, in an empty circle of grass. In one hand he held a massive sword, and his other was encased in a silver gauntlet with a glowing sapphire on the palm. To her left, a soldier with a bloody face and no helm ran at her with a cry. She didn’t think as she drew her sword and drove it into his throat. With a grunt, she ripped her arm back and urged Isolde forward. Once she broke free of the line, she reigned her in. “You are the usurper, Uncle!” She registered Gallifrey sliding to a stop beside her. “And I am not hiding! I fight with my men, unlike you!”

It was obvious, from his pristine sword and armor that he had not taken part in the battle. His companion, however, had a bloody dagger that he raised to his lips and made a show of licking. Disgust and repulsion made her sneer behind her face guard.

“Rose get back!” She nearly turned as she heard Jack cry out. Some part of her was relieved that he was alive, but another part knew that he did not want to see what was about to happen.

“And my prodigal son!” Rassilon frowned as he looked off to Rose’s left. “Let me dispatch of this pretender, and then Saxon can erase whatever bewitchment she place upon you.” Rose realized that Rassilon honestly believed she was faking this.

“Truth is not a spell!” Rose knew she was probably about to make a foolhardy mistake, but she couldn’t stop herself. She reached up with her empty hand and pulled her helm off. “Look at me, Rassilon! See my father’s eyes and my mother’s face.” She became acutely aware that the fighting behind her was slowly coming to a halt. Rassilon’s face flashed surprise then cold loathing. It should have terrified her, but it didn’t.

“Saxon!” Lord Cole’s roar of rage echoed across the field. “Your head is mine!” Rose didn’t have to look to see him spurring his horse forward. Rassilon waved one hand at Harold who laughed coldly and took off running to meet him.

“Rassilon! You will pay for the crimes you committed against my family and my kingdom!” Rose slammed her helm back into place and leapt from the saddle. To her right she could hear the clang of metal on metal as Lord Cole took on Saxon.

“I look forward to seeing my sword remove your head!” At Rassilon’s words, James drew his power to himself.

“Praesidio regina.” James let his magic flow out, watching as it enshrouded Rose in a second skin of golden glowing light. She was walking towards Rassilon, her sword in hand, face obscured by the helm. He could feel his blood ringing with the mortal danger she was in, and he followed after her. One part of him wanted to dismount, but the other knew he had to stay close to his energy reserves. He could feel the numbness inside of her burning into a lust for blood.

“You’ve got your father’s courage, I’ll give you that!” Rassilon began stalking towards her, twirling his sword as his gauntlet glowed.

Rose closed the gap, angling her body as she parried his first blow. She could see or hear nothing but the sound of his armor and breathing. She spun away, striking at his leg and grunting as her blade bounced off of the air just millimeters away from his armor. The time for talking was over, and she gave in to the urge to see him fall.

It became a blur strike, parry, dodge, kick. It was all instinct as she moved. He was the better swordsman, no doubt, but Rose was smaller with lighter armor. She could move more quickly to evade him. James had told the counsel that the enchanted armor had to be worn down to deplete the spell. Hers was enchanted as well, but it wasn’t starting to chip away the way his was. It was then that she realized James was circling their battle on Gallifrey, one hand out, casting a plethora of protective spells.

She gritted her teeth, ducking under one of Rassilon’s swings to jam the point of her sword in an empty spot in his armor between his chest and his armpit. She felt it pierce the thin padding there and blood splattered down her blade. His roar of pain made her dance back. She had just wanted to land some injury, and it was only luck that she had managed it. This seemed to anger him though, and he delivered a series of strikes that she had to drop and roll to evade.

Rose kicked out hard, aiming for his knee, but he dodged sideways and her boot met the gemstone set in the cap of his knee. It flew away causing a shimmer of air. Hope blossomed inside of her as she rolled away again and kicked hard. She felt the satisfying sensation of his knee crunching and buckling. His cry of pain and stumble gave her time to scramble back to her feet and regain her stance.

An idea sprung to life, wild and dangerous in its birth. She dropped her sword ripped her dagger from her sheath and lunged fully at him. Taking him by surprise, she latched her legs around his hips, clung to his shoulder with one hand, and jammed the blade of her dagger in the divot where a diamond the size of her fist was on his breast plate. With a roar of her own, she pressed down like a lever and watched as it sprung free to fly past her ear.

“You bitch!” Rassilon’s gauntlet covered hand wrapped around her arm and tossed her backwards. Rose hit the ground with a grunt, dropping her dagger to grab her sword again. She scrambled to her feet, and made to lunge again, but her blood ran cold.

Rassilon had raised his gauntlet, and it was glowing a dangerous blue. She could feel the tingle of magical energy begin to wash over her skin, and she knew that he was aiming to kill. Disregarding every instinct that cried for her to duck, she charged forward, aiming for the thin metal of the breastplate where the diamond had been. All she had to do was ram her sword in before she died.

A cry she had only heard once before ripped through her, and she couldn’t stop her feet before the horror unfolded before her. James had leapt from Gallifrey’s back, his never used sword in hand glowed brighter than lightning. He struck out at Rassilon’s arm, the blade biting through the mail at Rassilon’s elbow and severing it from his upper arm. The gauntlet was still glowing, the energy aimed at Rose, and she screamed as her blade barely missed his back as he passed to sink into Rassilon’s chest. She let it go, turning as James pulled the gauntlet to his chest and curled himself over it as he hit the blood soaked mud. The blue light engulfed him as it exploded outward, sending her and everyone within thirty meters flying back. A sound like thunder clapping inside of her skull rendered Rose deaf, and her helm flew off.

She didn’t have time to run to James as Rassilon pulled her sword from his chest, thick with blood, and tossed it aside. He charged at her, but suddenly she was surrounded. Soldiers, one she was shocked to see was Mickey, tackled him away. Confident he was dealt with, Rose scrambled to her feet to run to James. She had just fell to her knees, turning him over, when she felt something collide with her skull.

Everything was a haze of stars and fog. She couldn’t hear anything or keep her eyes open long enough to see. First she was being shaken by Lord Octavian, as he screamed soundlessly at her face. She blinked and Rory was carrying her in his arms, a cut running from his ear to his chin. His lips were moving, but there was no sound. “Where’s James?” She thought she asked. She felt like she asked it, but she couldn’t hear her own voice.

The world spun, and she was on a cot in a healers tent. A woman she didn’t recognize was bandaging the back of her head. Rose tried to sit up, but fog and stars took over and she felt herself collapse. It was the sound of Sarah Jane’s scream that brought her to this time. Her ears felt itchy and stuffy, like someone had stuffed them full of wool. Yet, she was regaining her hearing. She saw Sarah Jane being held back by Jack from a cot that was surrounded by three wrinkled and wise face healers. Sarah Jane was beating at Jack’s chest, struggling and kicking.

Dread pooled low into Rose’s stomach and she shoved herself shakily to her feet. Her head pounded painfully, and she was belatedly aware that she was in nothing but the undergarments. She didn’t care. “James! No! Don’t you dare!” She shoved aside people who grabbed at her, dodging past Jack and Sarah Jane to collapse next to the cot.

James was totally naked, barring the pastes of herbs and what smelled like fish that was being caked onto his skin. What wasn’t already painted was burnt. In some places like his ribs and pelvis, she could see bone showing through. A jagged cut was stitched along his abdomen on the lower right. His hair was singed and an inch shorter than normal, and a healer was muttering as he rubbed the paste onto James’ blistered face.

Rose could see that he was having difficulty breathing. His chest wasn’t rising and falling smoothly. It was short delayed gasps. “No! You can’t die! You just can’t!” She wanted to touch him, to hold him, but she was afraid. She felt herself sobbing as someone tried to pull her away. She yanked her arm free, tears pouring down her face. She felt utterly broken inside, like someone had ripped every happy emotion or feeling from her as she looked at him. The only part of his body that seemed to have escaped serious injury was his lips. Without thinking she bent down and pressed her own against his. “Don’t leave me, James.”

It was dark and burning. James felt trapped in his own mind. Every so often he felt something thick, wet, and cool touch his skin. Yet the burning soon overtook that. He felt like he was drowning, like he had inhaled boiling water. He couldn’t hear anything, not even the thoughts of the people touching him. He couldn’t even sense Rose’s emotions. It was taking everything he had just to breathe. The darkness was growing thicker, and the burning was trickling away to a terrifyingly chilly numbness. He knew he was dying, and he wanted to fight it. Yet, he didn’t have the will. If he couldn’t feel Rose then she was dead too. He was about to relax, to surrender to the darkness, when something pressed against his lips. It was cool, damp, and so familiar. It was Rose. She was alive, and if she was alive then he had to live. He had no choice.

Forcing his way through the pain and inferno, he focused only on the satin of her kiss. James latched onto it with his consciousness. He reached for her existence, drawing the strength she was trying to give him, and used it to bolster his resolve. He welcomed the pain, letting himself feel every iota of it, and with a cry he forced his way up to wakefulness. All he saw, when his eyes opened, was Rose’s tear streaked face paling as she collapsed back.

Then his mother was kneeling beside him sobbing, pressing her palm to his forehead like she had done his entire life when he had been sick. “Dormies, fili mi, et sana.” As the familiar comfort of her magic coursed into him, he let the sleeping spell lull him under.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Armor](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/93/bc/2c/93bc2c50cccf67e2be0269f41c7a8d88.jpg)


	17. Mercy and Justice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, this chaoter was hard to write
> 
>  
> 
> graphic execution scene

Rose was still feeling the side effects of the battle two days prior as she dragged herself from the healers wing in the castle. She had suffered a ruptured eardrum, some minor bruising, and a severe concussion. Those injuries had only been amplified by James drawing in her energy. She hadn’t known that was what she was doing, kissing him and mentally pleading for him to not die. Yet, she hadn’t and still didn’t care that it had made her own healing process longer.

James was still under a sleeping spell, only being roused long enough to get broth and water into him. Even with healers working on him, the extent of his injuries were still troublesome. The gauntlet had shattered when it exploded as had his armor, and the shards had to be removed from his abdomen. His skin was healing fine, and he would have no scars there. However the healing of internal organs was taking longer. They said he would be fit to stay awake by tomorrow. She had wanted to sit with him longer, but duty called.

Cassandra’s army had arrived yesterday afternoon, but that skirmish didn’t last long once the soldiers got word of Rassilon’s defeat and the validity of Rose’s claim to the throne. Cassandra was in the dungeons, as was Rassilon. Harold Saxon was dead, decapitated by Lord Cole shortly after Rassilon fell. They would both be facing public hearings today, and Rose was to be the judge. It was not something she was looking forward to, because one or both was going to result in death.

Death, something she still wasn’t quite coping with was the fact that she had killed two men. Yes, they were the enemy’s soldiers, but they were still on her conscience. None of the songs or tales about wars or battles ever spoke about seeing the faces of the ones you killed in your dreams, or reliving the moment the sword or arrow made contact. She didn’t know who to talk to, since James wasn’t awake.

So, she pushed those thoughts aside and made her way out to the entourage waiting for her. The high counsel, Jack, Donna, Lord Samiel, Lord Cole, and Lady Centuri were all already mounted, surrounded by her Queen’s guard. Jake Simmonds had finally finished establishing who were the best fit. He had wanted Rory, but Rose had said no as he would eventually marry Amy and take lordship over her family’s lands. Instead, Mickey had been knighted for his valiance at charging Rassilon, despite having been stabbed in the leg. Another guard was Sir Daniel Pink, a man recognized that had come to her rescue during the attempted assassination. The others she was still getting to know. Gritting her teeth against the exhaustion in her bones, she accepted the help of a groom to mount. Then she led the procession to the city.

The streets were strangely empty, businesses closed, and windows were shuttered. She knew most of the citizens were in the city center. Rose had ordered that no children be permitted, only those over the age of fifteen were allowed to witness the events. Even her entourage was silent. Granted, most were still feeling the effects of the battle, but they all seemed to recognize and understand that she was still attempting to process everything.

When they got to the center of town, the windowless prisoner wagons were waiting next to a large wooden stage that had been constructed the day before. It had two levels. The lower one held the executioner’s block, and the upper level held two large wooden chairs that would serve as her and Jack’s thrones. She dismounted Isolde, staring straight ahead as the crowd parted to let her and the others pass. Everyone was silent, and only the sound of the day time bugs and birds were audible.

Rose wondered how it could be so sunny and clear skied when she felt like she was walking through a dense fog of dread and sadness. She ascended the first set of steps, averting her eyes from the executioner’s block, and continued up to her place. Jack had insisted on staying by her side, and at first she had rejected his request. It had taken the entire counsel to convince her that if he wasn’t with her, it would leave rumors of her trust in him. So, she had agreed.

Swallowing hard, she adjusted her skirts and sat. Jack took his seat, and she nodded at the guards. “Bring the prisoners.” She didn’t have to raise her voice, as the complete silence allowed it to carry. As Rassilon and Cassandra were led by chain up the steps, Rose reached over to cover Jack’s hand, where it clenched the arm of the chair so tightly she was afraid he would break it. His fingers twitched, but they relaxed slightly and he let out an exhale. The crowd began to hiss and boo as the hoods over the prisoners’ heads were removed, and they were shoved to their knees.

Rassilon’s mouth was gagged, amputated arm was bandaged, and he looked ragged and filthy. Cassandra’s normally pristine clothes and hair were stained and tattered. To Rose’s surprise, she felt no smug satisfaction at seeing her like this. In fact, she felt almost sad at that. Rassilon looked very haggard and in pain, but for him Rose felt strangely numb. Her anger and rage at him had been expended on the battlefield. She sighed, sat up straight in her chair, and pulled her hand back to rest with her other one in her lap. “Cassandra O’brien, please stand.” She watched as her former step mother tried to get her feet under her. “Help her up gentlemen.” Rose nodded at the guards behind them. They helped Cassandra to her feet. “You are here to be held accountable for your attempted rebellion and coup of the throne. You are being charged with treason. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Her voice was trembling as she added softly. “Your Majesty.” Her eyes didn’t meet Rose’s though.

“Look at your Queen-“ Rose raised a hand to cut Jack off.

“Please look me in the face, Cassandra.” Rose kept her voice flat and even. She held Cassandra’s eyes as they met her own. “Not guilty, you say? Did you or did you not lead an army of bannermen to the capitol to attack my allied forces two days ago?” She didn’t give her time to respond, letting the words she had practiced roll off of her tongue. “Did you or did you not conspire with Rassilon to help him depose me and take my throne? Did you or did you not ignore my decree of coming to submit yourself and your lands to my rule?”

“I did, but only because Rassilon told me you were using magic to make yourself queen.” Cassandra’s voice was utterly defeated, as if she knew she was going to die and had resigned herself to this fate. “When Reinette sent word she was coming home and why, I believed him.”

“I could have executed Reinette, you know. There are crimes that she and you are both guilty of, that do not apply to this trial. You and I know this is true. Yet, I willingly sent her home with a fully armed escort to make sure she arrived unharmed.” Rose arched an eyebrow at the woman she had called mother for so long, the woman who hated her, spurned her, and abused her. “You raised me, if you would call what I was subjected to being raised. If I had magic, do you think I would have willingly taken such treatment? You can lie to everyone else, Cassandra, but you can’t lie to me or yourself.” She held the woman’s eyes in silence, trying to find something in there that shower remorse or regret. Rose saw nothing but fear and acceptance of death.

“I understand why you felt the way you did towards me my whole life, really. Yet, I cannot forget that you did nurse me from your breast for the first few months, if only because Martin told you to. I cannot forget that you were the one who taught me how to keep a home, how to cook, clean, and provide, even if it was a life of slavery in which I learned it.” Rose moved her hands to the arm rests of the chair and made up her mind. “You called me Thorn, Step-Mother, all my life. I was the thorn in your side, all my life, and now I will be one even more. You will not die today.” She pushed up on the chair to stand, bringing her hands forward to hold her palms up. “Cassandra O’brien, you are found guilty of treason and forthwith stripped of all titles and all lands. Your wealth, riches, and properties belong to you no more. You are sentenced to seventy years indentured servitude of the Throne to the stone quarries. There you will serve as a maid to the workers there.” She saw the fear and anguish flush into Cassandra’s face at the sentencing. For a woman who had known nothing but a life of luxury, this was a fate worse than death. “You are allowed to see your only daughter, Reinette, once yearly. If and when she marries, you will be permitted to attend her wedding. If and when she conceives children, you will be permitted to attend their dedication and name day to the gods.” Rose lowered her left hand but kept her right held firmly before her. “I give you only one mercy besides this. Since your indenture belongs to the throne, anyone who lays a hand on you, male or female, in a way that may besmirch or degrade your womanly honor, will be executed.” She lowed her hand and turned her face away. “Remove her from my sight. Feed her, see that her injuries and illnesses are tended to, and then send her to face her sentence.”

Rose heard her sob as the guards led her away. She hoped that she had made the right decision, that showing some small mercy was a way to let the people know she was not one to rule by fear. She lowered herself to the throne, casting a side glance at Jack who gave her a stone faced nod. This was going to be hard for him, and she knew he wasn’t as okay with this as he put on. This was going to hurt him, and she only hoped he did not hate her for it. “Help Rassilon to stand.” She met the man’s cold blue eyes as he glowered at her in hatred. She could see him trying to curse at her around the gag, blood froth forming where it rubbed the corners of his mouth. “Remove his gag.”

Rose almost regretted that, because he went on an instant tirade. “Lying bastard bitch! You are the usurper! You-“ his voice was cut short as Jake punched him in the bandage on his missing arm. The pain nearly made him collapse, but Rory and Mickey held him upright.

“No need for violence, Sir Jake.” Rose shook her head as Jake bowed and muttered an insincere apology. “Rassilon Tyler, you stand accused of financing and plotting the assassination of King Peter Tyler and Queen Jacqueline Tyler, of financing and plotting the attempted assassination of me, of usurping the throne, of inciting open rebellion against the throne, and of attempting to kill me a second time. How do you plead?”

“Not guilty!” Rassilon spat a bloody glob onto the wood planks in front of him.

“Prince Jack Harkness, Lords Cole and Samiel, Ladies Sylvia And Centuri, as well as most of the crowd here, the entire Royal Guard have born witness to the evidence that you did.” Rose let her gaze scan the crowd invitingly. “Do any here who witness the memory ceremony or read the blood scroll refute these charges.” There was silence, so Rose continued. “I would like to know why you did what you did, uncle, but you have refused to admit why to even our most skilled interrogators.” Rose looked to her right to glance again at Jack, who was staring at his father with a look of disappointment and sadness so deep it hurt her deep in her soul.

She drew a breath and stood. She met Rassilon’s eyes again, trying to convey how much she did not want to give the order she was about to. “Rassilon Tyler, I find you guilty of treason most high. You are to be sentenced to death by beheading. This sentence is to be carried out immediately.” Rose gestured at Jake, Rory, and Mickey, who all grabbed Rassilon. He was screaming and fighting, his voice so harsh and wild that his words were unintelligible. She watched as they shoved him to his knees behind the executioner’s block, chaining his one arm to it and his legs to the planks. He was still trying to break free, pleading with Jack, who kept his face deadpan and staring blankly past him at the crowd.

Rose let the people see the sorrow in her face, meeting their eyes, trying to see how they were reacting. They were all watching with a plethora of reactions: fear, anxiety, eagerness, smug satisfaction, and sadness. She let her eyes travel back to Rassilon, who had been blindfolded and was still screaming. The black masked executioner was approaching, with a massive blade that looked like a cross between a sword and an axe. She had no idea who was under the hood, nor did she ever want to know. She just drew herself to her full height, clenched her teeth and fists, and nodded. To her horror and relief the blade came down in one swift movement, expertly placed, and Rassilon’s head left his shoulders. His body twitched as blood squirted out to soak the planks. She knew better than to look away, staring at the twitching body and gurgling blood until it all grew still.

“Take his remains outside of the city and burn the body.” She met Lord Octavian's eyes, and he nodded. Then she addressed the crowd. “I am sorry that you all had to witness this. I only ask that you do not think that I am a queen who wishes to rule by fear and threats. I declare today a day of mourning, for those lost in battle, for those who were killed unjustly under Rassilon’s rule.” She clasped her hands in front of her and poured her sadness and promise into her eyes and voice. “My first act as Queen will be to review every law and every crime sentenced by Rassilon. Any found that are inhumane will be overruled, and any sentences that were given to innocent victims will be overturned and compensated.” She didn’t dare smile as they began to whisper. “Go, spend the day with the ones you love, honor your own dead, and just have a day of rest.”

Rose turned back to Jack and held out her hand. When he took it, she led him down the steps, past the bloody puddle, and to his horse. She touched his cheek with a sisterly affection before he mounted, and she could see the tears being held back. “Go meet Donna and mourn.” She watched as he swallowed hard and blinked rapidly.

She mounted Isolde, watching as everyone took to their saddles as well. She led the procession back up to the castle, and once they were past the portcullis, she spoke. “I don’t want a counsel meeting tonight. All of us have not had time to actually relax and rest. Go, take some time to rest and recuperate. Tomorrow the castle will return to function as normal.” She could feel a loss of her emotions coming on her. She didn’t want to break down in front of them all, though, so she fought it. “Only the minimal amount of staff needed should be working. The rest are to be given a day off.”

“As you wish my Queen.” Their murmurs of understanding fell on deaf ears.

Rose pulled Isolde away from the group. She needed to get away. She aimed her brilliant mare towards the wall that led to the castle’s private beach access. She spurred her into a canter, losing herself in the smooth but powerful movements. Putting her faith in Isolde’s skills and knowledge of the paths, she gave into her tears. She let her mare have her head once they reached the meadow that overlooked the pristine sand and waves, and she let her run or walk or graze as she pleased until her own tears had run dry.


	18. A Potion for the Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussion of PTSD (soldier’s sickness)  
> Yes the potion Rose drinks contains marijuana, but it’s for medicinal purposes *eyeshifts*  
> Smut at the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This Chapter took so long to post, because Rose_Nebula had to be punished. Since delaying reading the next chapter was the only way to punish her, It had to be done. So, blame her! Hahahaha

James winced as he pushed himself upright. He had been roused from his sleeping spell a few hours before, but his mother and the other healers had refused to let him out of bed. When they had finally left, after assuring he had eaten and drank copious amounts of water, he had waited only a bit longer. It was well after midnight, but Rose had not been in her bed. He was having a hard time concentrating on her emotions, as he was still feeling weak.

He had been told everything that had occurred while he was unconscious: the trial, the execution, and how she had disappeared all afternoon, returning only to check on him and eat before going to bed. Well, she wasn’t in bed or in the library. Grunting against the throbbing in his stomach, he leaned against a wall and closed his eyes. Concentrating all of his focus, he found the slightest tendrils of sadness. They were coming from somewhere above him, and he realized where she must have gone. The north tower, usually used for astronomy studies or to survey the lands beyond the city, was the highest point in the castle. It was also the least used and the stairway to it was only two halls over.

“This is going to be painful.” James groaned as he made his way down the shadowed corridor to the heavy wooden door. He opened it slowly, biting back a frustrated sigh as he eyed the spiraling stone staircase. Gripping the iron rail in one hand and bracing his still sore abdomen with the other, he began his ascent. It was an agonizing journey, as each step reminded him with a stab of how close he had come to death. He knew he was probably going to get a right scolding from Rose, and his mother, for doing this. It was just the fact that she had not been at his side when he woke up was troublesome.

The more he climbed, which seemed to be taking an eternity, the stronger her sadness grew against his soul. He clung to it, using it like a guiding rope to brace his determination, until his shaky feet came to a halt on the stone floor of the top room. Feeling very much like he had just been trampled by a herd of destriers, James leaned against the wall as he looked around. There were only a few candles lit, but no torches. The glass windows let in little light from the stars, but there was no moon. It was the sound of rustling fabric and a sigh that drew his gaze to the largest window. Rose was sitting, her back to him, leaning her head against the legs of the massive telescope.

He shoved himself away from the wall, shuffled over, and touched her hair softly. “Good thing I’m not an assassin, because you’d already be dead.” He tried to joke as she squeaked and jumped. Letting his legs give out, he dropped unceremoniously to the floor and offered her a weak smile.

“James!” He could feel the joy in her burst forth, followed by an ocean of concern. “You shouldn’t have climbed all this way.” Her hands went out, as if to touch him, but froze halfway. “You should be in bed!”

“I was going to our bed, but it was empty.” He caught her hand in his own and raised it to his lips to kiss the palm. “Then I felt how sad you were.

“So you climbed all this way?” Rose’s worried look faded away to one of adoration. “Of course you did.” She shook her head and scooted closer to him, cupping his face with a smile so downtrodden he thought his heart would break. “Because nearly dying to save me wasn’t proof enough of your love?” She blinked rapidly, and he saw more tears threatening to fall down her already puffy red cheeks.

“Don’t cry, please don’t cry.” James felt his throat tighten, as he leaned back against the wall beneath the window and pulled her to him. She resisted, shaking her head and muttering about not wanting to hurt him. “Shhh, holding you will make me better.” He finally managed to tug her into his lap and wrap his arms around her. He breathed in the scent of her hair oils and soap, reveling in the delicate, floral smell. He had thought he was fibbing about holding her making him better, but feeling her body against his, the warm softness of her skin, did ease the ache in his mind and chest.

“I’m so sorry.” Rose buried her face in his neck. He could feel the guilt and pain rolling off of her like a thick summer storm. “I didn’t think. I was just so angry, and I just wanted it all the end.” There was something else there, an emotion he didn’t have a description for. It was dark and heavy, weighing down the light inside of her he had come to love. “You almost died, and it was my fault. I was an idiot, and I shouldn’t have-“

James didn’t let her continue on her self-deprecating apologetic rant. He tugged her head back gently and pressed his lips to hers. They were cold, dry, sticky, and salt from crying. “Stop that line of thought, right now.” He murmured against her lips. It took the span of three heartbeats for her to respond, clinging to him, burying one hand in his hair and running the other along his face and chest. It was as if she couldn’t get close enough to him.

When they finally parted, each panting for breath, James tucked her head under his chin so her now warm and damp lips brushed his neck. “Now, why aren’t you in bed? I can feel how tired you are.”

“I can’t sleep.” Rose’s voice was a whisper, thick with an unexplainable sadness. He winced inwardly as he tightened his arms around her.

“Didn’t my mum give you something for that?” James was confused. His mother would have definitely brewed up a sleeping tonic had she known. She had done it for Donna and Amy the first time they had witnessed a public execution.

“I haven’t told her. She’s been so busy with the healers tending to the wounded.” Rose’s fingers played gently with the strings at the collar of his shirt. “I didn’t want to be a bother.”

The tone in her voice was odd, like she felt insecure in the thoughts in her mind. He knew he could easily find out her troubles, but he kept his barriers in place. “Come down to bed with me, and I’ll make you a sleeping potion.” He knew how to do it. It make take him longer than usual, but he could mix one up.

“Will I dream?” Rose's request was a confusing one. He had never even asked his mother that or had the desire to look it up.

“I don’t think it blocks dreams.” He stroked her hair, loving the soft feeling of it under his fingers. “Why would you not want to dream?” He cursed his pain and exhaustion clouded mind as he realized what was troubling her just as she responded.

“Because I keep seeing them, the men I killed on the battlefield.” She gave another soft sob as her fingers tightened in his shirt. “And the moment when I thought you were going to die. Over and over and over.” Rose pulled out of his arms before he could stop her, moving to sit with her knees pulled to her chest. “I’m not supposed to be this way. Nobody else is acting like this. What’s wrong with me? Am I weak?”

“Soldier’s sickness.” James knew what it was. He had seen it in some of the soldiers and knights who had been in the war with Skaro. He and Jack had only been of age at the very end, and they had only been in one battle. Yet, it had taken three years for him to stop dreaming of it weekly. “It’s more common than you think. Anyone who has been to battle or war has it to some degree.” This was something he could sympathize with, help her through more than his mother or the castle healers could. “If you’re weak, then so am I.”

That drew her attention, those honey eyes meeting his in soft shock. “You have nightmares from battle?”

“He had to be only sixteen, maybe seventeen, with eyes bluer than the summer sky, and his hair had been shaved off, like almost all pure Skaro men.” James didn’t have to close his eyes to remember, because the boy was forever imprinted in his memories, ones that he had learned to push away. “He already had an arrow on his shoulder, but he was still fighting. I told him to stop, that the battle was over, but he picked up his sword and was charging at the captain beside me. I didn’t even think, and I swung my sword. I still see him, sometimes, in my nightmares.” He shivered as he recalled the shock and pain in those eyes. “And sometimes, I think I’m still in battle, but then I wake up and I’m here.” Another memory hit him. “That first night we shared a bed, and my mother woke us up, I was dreaming about it. Remember how I nearly attacked her?” He reached out to touch her hand, realizing that he hadn’t even acknowledged his own physical pin while addressing her own fears.

Rose wiped her eyes again. She still felt the weight of it all, but the fact that James experienced what she was feeling helped some. It didn’t make her feel any less guilty, but she didn’t feel that deep isolating weakness that had driven her to seek solitude high away from everyone else. “The bards and storytellers don’t talk about this part of fighting in wars.” She laced her fingers through his, letting the warmth of his touch ease her fear and anxiety like it always did. He was here, awake, and alive.

“Well they don’t sing or tell about grown men crying for their mums as they lay broken in the mud either.” James’ snort wasn’t as sarcastic as it usually was. Rose could tell from the dark circles under his eyes and the way he was keeping his body against the wall that he was still in pain. “That does not exactly inspire awe and wonder.” His hand was shaking as he squeezed her fingers and pushed himself to his feet. “I do know a potion to help with soldier’s sickness though. Come down with me, and I’ll make some.”

“I’ll make it.” Rose let him pull her to her feet, adjusting her night robe over her bedclothes. “You tell me how.” She didn’t comment, trying to ignore the guilt as they made their way slowly down the dark stairs. She could see how each step affected him. It was painful to see him lean heavily on the wall and rails, using them to steady himself. She was so used to seeing him strutting about, confident and full of energy. She had caused him to suffer like this. If she hadn’t had rushed so recklessly to Rassilon, then he wouldn’t be-

“Stop it.” He growled weakly, looking back over his shoulder at her. “I can feel your guilt, and there is no need for it. Rassilon would have come to you regardless. I survived, yeah, that’s all that matters.”

Rose had forgotten the emotional connection between them, and she dug a hole deep inside herself and buried her guilt there. Right now she had to focus on getting them down to their room. Their room, now that was something she could hold on to. In the flurry of the past few days, she had forgotten they were engaged. She was going to marry him, and that thought was so joyous and filling that she clung to it. “I’m going to be your wife.”

“I’m sorry for that.” The faint humor in his voice made her giggle and roll her eyes as they reached the ground floor. “That’s a punishment no woman deserves.” James flashed her a teasing smile as he shuffled forward.

Rose moved closer to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulder and hers around his waist. She did it so he could lean on her, but quickly made an excuse to spare his masculine pride. “Hold me. It’s a bit drafty in the halls.”

“With pleasure.” His fingers ghosted along her exposed collarbone, and he kissed the top of her head. They kept quiet the rest of the way, so as not to wake anyone.

Once in their room, he pointed to his potion book and showed her the page for two lists of ingredients. Luckily there was a page in the back with each ingredient expertly sketched, so when she snuck into his mother’s quarters to raid the storage cabinet she was able to find them all. When Rose got back, he had stoked the fire in the hearth and hung two small pots over it. She followed his instructions closely, and soon there was a bubbling, red, potion and a thick, green one.

“I need the red one.” James pointed, and she pulled the pot off the hook and poured it into a goblet. “Let the green one cool, and then drink half. Bottle the other half up.” Rose again did as instructed.

“Cheers.” He tapped her goblet to hers after establishing it was cool enough, and then chugged it back. “Sip yours slowly. When you start to feel it, take two more big drinks then stop.” He made a face and grabbed a banana from the constant tray of fruit. “Blech this

“How will I know?” Rose raised an eyebrow as she sipped. The thick liquid smelled and tasted a little like sage, but different. It was a heavy, musky taste and aroma that nearly made her cough.

“You’ll know. Trust me.” Some of the color was returning to his cheeks as James leaned back on the couch and lifted his arm. She snuggled into his side gently, sipping her thick potion. It was only a few minutes of silence before she began to feel a bit relaxed. She figured it was just being with him, warm and safe in the soft light of the fire. His breathing was coming easier, and his hand’s movements became less shaky against her arm. His potion, which had said was a potent pain reliever and magical energy restorative, seemed to be working on him. He still looked exhausted, but more in control of his posture. It wasn’t until she was halfway through her goblet that she realized what he had meant.

The heavy guilt and dread she had been feeling was dimmed. It wasn’t gone, but it wasn’t gnawing at her either. It was like someone had pulled a curtain around it, making it easier to bear. Rose felt a bit odd, like her whole body was lighter than before. Her mouth felt dry and cottony, but her lingering soreness from the battle was gone. She felt warm inside, a bit like she had the morning after their first night of intimacy. The room around them seemed a bit less in focus, but things close to them were more clear in their colors and features. For some reason, the fire licking at the logs seemed strangely interesting, and she marveled at it. Her attention quickly shifted from that to the patterns he was tracing on her bare arms, and she felt it send low and deep waves of pleasure to her core.

“I think.” She giggled at how drawn out and heavy her voice sounded and how sticky her tongue felt. “It’s working.” Remembering his instructions, she took two more long drinks and set the nearly empty goblet aside. “My tongue feels weird.” Rose wriggled out of his grasp to grab the water jug. Walking felt weird, not like she was drunk, but definitely like she was impaired. She didn’t care though. She poured herself some water, wondering why he was chuckling. Then she realized she was grinning ear to ear. She sipped her water, letting a groan slip out as how delicious the cool mineral sweet liquid was.

The bowl of fruit on the table by the couch seemed suddenly delicious, and she snagged a handful of grapes. She popped one in her mouth, savoring the tart juices as she chewed. “Oh my gods. These are delicious.” She held one out to him, licking her lips. “You have to try.” His continuous chuckle made her tilt her head. That motion made the room shift just a bit. “What’s so funny.” Rose took another in her mouth, groaning at the sinful deliciousness. “They did not taste this good this morning.”

“Try the raspberries, love.” His eyes sparkled in amusement as he pointed. She scooped one up, and when the juices exploded on her tongue she went for another. “Now a banana.” He held it out to her, as he he had peeled it open already. James was borderline laughing now, his cheeks flushing from the mirth he obviously got from watching her.

Rose plucked it from his hands. She closed her lips around it, again groaning at how succulent it was. She bit down, chewing slowly, closing her eyes as the combined flavours danced on her tongue. When she opened her eyes again, she raised the banana to her mouth and found James was staring at her. She recognized that look on his face, the intense dark look of building arousal. Rose realized, with a burst of amusement, how this must look. She took her time, slowly sliding the fruit between her lips and winking at him.

She could really feel the potion taking effect, as every emotion except a deep seated arousal fled from her thoughts. That light, easy, feeling was growing stronger, and her hunger for food was quickly giving way to a hunger of a different kind. “What is so amusing?” Rose moved into the space in front of him, leaning down to brace her arms on the back of the couch.

“You are.” James’ voice was intoxicating, as his fingers danced up her side. “How are you feeling? Bit floaty, light headed maybe? Relaxed?” Rose could tell he was wanting her, but some part of her realized how tired he must be. She was feeling sleepy too, but not ready for bed.

“Hungry.” She didn’t realize she had practically purred the word until his fingers twitched against her night dress.

“Common side effect of the potion.” His voice was alluringly thick, and a quick glance down showed her the reason. “Cotton mouth and craving food are the most usual side effects.”

“Not hungry for food.” Rose knew she probably shouldn’t tease him like this, that he wasn’t up for giving her pleasure. The man could barely stand, but she closed her lips on his neck with a sigh.

“Increased.” James’ voice went high on the last syllable as he gripped her hips. “Sexual desire is another. Forgot about that one.” He gave her a soft push, but she nipped his skin. “Rose, love, it’s late. I can’t give you anything tonight.”

“Did I ask you to?” Rose let her hands trail down his chest as she placed a light peck on his lips. “You’ve done enough for me.” Spurred on by the way his heart was racing under his shirt, she brushed her fingers down to his thighs. “Saved my life, climbed up and down a tower to make sure I was okay, and gave me this amazing potion.” She lowered herself to her knees, keeping her eyes locked on his as they widened in understanding. “Let me take care of you.”

“You don’t have to.” His protest was weak as his hand tangled in her hair, brushing it from her face. Rose hope the way she gazed up at him through her lashes was enough to convey she wanted to do this. “Just knowing you’re alive is-stars above.” He gasped and bucked as she wrapped her lips around the length straining against his loose linen pants. “But gratitude is always appreciated. Who am I to turn down a gift of thanks from my Queen- gods and goddess!” He made a needy noise as she sucked through the material.

Feeling smugly pleased with herself, she pushed his shirt up and loosened the strings at the front of his pants and pulled his full length out. The sight of the jagged scar on his abdomen spurred her on, making her desire to bring him to complete satisfaction stronger. Closing her eyes and losing herself in the sound of his sighs and moans, she let her tongue stroke up his length and swirl around the tip. She couldn’t stifle her own whimper of pleasure as she encircled him with her lips and began working him.

It was the first time she had done this without him breathlessly uttering instructions, but she eagerly remembered what he liked. Hollowing out her cheeks, she sucked and pressed her tongue against the soft hot skin on the underside of his length. She was rewarded with a groan and his hand tightening in her hair. Bobbing her head and closing her, she picked an easy rhythm. Rose had to admit that she enjoyed this, the ability to render him to a gasping, moaning, breathless state. It filled her with a seductive, heady feeling that mixed with the warm tingle the potion had caused to pool in her core. She took him to the hilt, loosening her throat like James had taught her. Before she had to focus hard on not gagging, but it seemed the potion had a relaxing effect on that reflex and she did it with no trouble. She bit down ever so gently, dragging her teeth up with another firm suck. The deep, feral growl it elicited from his chest made hot dampness form low between her thighs.

Rose rubbed her legs together, trying to cause some friction for herself as she wrapped two fingers around James’ hardness and began to stroke in time to the movements of her mouth. Unthinking, her other hand trailed down the silk over her stomach and pulled up the hem of her nightdress. Giggling offhandedly at her unintentional forethought to go panty-less, she let her fingers brush the now wet curls. James had taught her how to do this too, bring pleasure to herself. She remembered the way his eyes had burned as he watched her do it the first time. She had been so embarrassed then, blushing and hesitant. Rose felt none of that now. Her giggle gave way to an unrestrained gasp of pleasure as her fingers found the sensitive bundle of nerves hidden at the apex of her folds.

She didn’t even realize how that gasp must have felt on his skin until he bucked into her mouth with a whimper. “Rose, are you touching yourself?” His voice was gravely and desperate. She smiled around him, letting her eyes flutter open to meet his. She circled the needing and swollen bud in through her curls, as she groaned and made a show of squeezing his length and laving her tongue across the tip. “You’re a minx.” James’ head fell back as he tugged at her hair. His free hand came down to grasp her right breast. “I love it.”

“And I love you.” Rose hummed as she took him into her throat again. Her body vibrated with pleasure. His hands working her breast, rolling it, squeezing it, and catching her pert nipple through her gown, made the sensations her own fingers were sending up her spine and down her legs stronger. Combined with the effects of the potion, she felt totally intoxicated, caring only about this moment in time.

She focused her hazy thoughts solely on her ministrations, giving in to the thick lust that was coursing through her veins. The feel of his touch, the way his voice sighed her name, and the way he occasionally bucked up into her touch and lips made her own pleasure intensify. Rose was so close, but she wanted him to finish first, so she slowed the attentions on herself and began working him with a purpose. She stroked, sucked, licked and hummed fervently, looking up to watch as James’ responsive praises began to come quicker and more frantic.

“Don’t stop.” James’ eyes locked onto hers, and his lower lip dropped into a desperate pleading pout. “By all the gods and stars, Rose, just like that.” She tightened her lips and fingers, concentrating the presses of her tongue and sucks to the tip and space just below it as she stroked him with slight twisting motions. She felt her own climax beginning to build slowly. “Yes, bloody hell, yes, so close.” His legs flexed against her forearm, as he began to give short thrusts into her hand and mouth. “I love you.” At the soft cry of the words he held her head in place and his release coated her tongue. Groaning in encouragement, Rose took it all, swallowing as she took his completion in full.

“I love you too.” She gasped, licking the remnants off of her lips as she let the satisfaction of what she had done for him wave through her and intensify the tingles of ecstasy waving up from the rubs and circles of her fingers.

“Show me.” His request was soft as he pushed back on her shoulder lightly. “I want to watch.”

Rose pulled her dress higher, as she leaned back against the table and spread her knees wider. “Like this?” She closed her eyes again, biting her lip as she felt the coiled spring of tension begin to tighten deep inside of her. She was just at the edge, so close to her own release, when she felt both of his hands close over her breasts and squeeze. That did it. She tried and failed to keep her cry of pleasure quiet as stars danced in front of her eyes and her pulse roared in her ears. The already wavering room spun as the intense pleasure shot through her.

“You are so perfect.” James hands pulled hers away from her body, guiding her shakily to crawl onto the sofa next to him. “I wish you could see how happy you make me.”

Rose felt giggly as she curled up against him. “It is a little unfair how you can tell how happy you make me.” She was too relaxed now, feeling the glow of her climax burning on her skin. It felt different than the last few times, not more intense, but deeper and smoother.

“We should probably move to the bed.” James’ voice was thick with the satiated sleepy tone he always had when they had finished. “Or I’m going to pass out right here.”

“I’ll snuff the candles.” Rose only peeled herself away from him because she knew the sooner she did the sooner she could really snuggle up to him in bed.

She quickly put out the candles and shuttered the oil lanterns, as he turned back the blankets and crawled under them. He looked so peaceful, watching her move, that it was hard to believe that morning he had been under the watchful eye of the healers. Rose felt sleepiness begin to tug at her own mind as she snuggled in next to him, smiling at him in the dim light of the fire. “Thank you, for everything.” She kissed his nose with a happy hum.

“No, thank you.” The hand curled over her waist squeezed softly. “Sleep tight.” His lips brushed over her eyes, making them close. It wasn’t long before she drifted off, and for the first time since the battle, no ghosts haunted her dreams.


	19. Happily Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here there be copious amounts of married smut

“Put that message down and hold still.” Amy batted the paper from Rose’s hand before she could finish reading the evaluation of her assessment counsel on Lady Rani’s lands. “I can’t get your hair into place with you fidgeting.”

“But I need to read what the assessment advisors said.” It had been four months since the battle with Rassilon, four blissfully peaceful months. Rose had finally settled into her routine as Queen, and it was stressful but fulfilling. Her high counsel and advisors were still schooling her on everything from the economy to diplomatic relations. She had replaced Cassandra with Bev and her husband, naming them Lord and Lady of the lands she had grown up on. Bev was the most ideal choice, since she had run the household just as her mother and grandmother had.

Rose had also been able to clean out most of the prisons. Many men and women had been unjustly accused and found guilty of crimes they had either not committed, or had committed by had been severely over sentenced. For instance, a man who had grazed his flock of eight sheep on royal lands had been sitting in prison for ten years already. She had made sure each family was appropriately compensated. She still had many wrongs to right, many laws to overturn or alter. It was a draining prospect, but today was different. Today and for the next week, Rose had absolutely nothing to do but be herself. It was her wedding day.

“Jack will handle that.” Amy tapped her bare shoulder with a comb and sighed. “Relax, let me work my magic. Today is the one day you are supposed to be worry free.” Rose tried to catch a glimpse in the mirror, but Amy had covered it with a sheet.

“You can’t look until we’re done!” Donna called from the other side of the room, where she was carefully laying out Rose’s dress.

“Reading the message helped distract me.” Rose had to admit she was nervous, so much so that she had hardly been able to eat. She hadn’t seen James since breakfast yesterday, as Jack had stolen him away.

“Well I have something to distract you.” Donna beamed as she came over to make some minor adjustments to Rose’s already impeccable makeup. She hadn’t even seen it yet, but she knew that Donna had made it perfect. “But you can’t tell anyone yet. You two are the first to hear this little secret except for one other person.” She put the brush down and smoothed her dress. The rich purple material looked good against the faint tan she had acquired on her two wee honeymoon to Boeshane. She had Jack had returned last weeks. “I’m pregnant.”

“What?!” Rose jerked, feeling the shock give way to happiness as Amy echoed her shout. “How far along?!”

“Sarah Jane says about three months.” Donna’s face was radiant as she touched her still flat stomach through her dress. “I haven’t even told Jack yet. I only managed to get Sarah Jane to check yesterday.”

“A baby!” Amy giggled from behind Rose as they both stood to hug their friend. “I can’t believe it! When are you going to tell Jack?!”

“Tonight, after James and Rose leave.” Donna squeezed them both before pushing Rose back into the chair. “Don’t want to overshadow our Queen’s day!”

“We’ll make the official announcement as soon as I get back!” Rose’s nerves were far from her thoughts as she wondered over this revelation. Her tiny family was growing, and it filled her with a warm sense of contentment.

“Dress time!” Donna was absolutely giddy as she drug Rose to the bed and ordered her out of her dressing robe. “No peeking!”

Rose obediently closed her eyes as her friends helped her into her dress. She had made only one request in regards to her gown. She had wanted it simple, elegant, but simple. It was a tradition in the Royal family, that the closest female relative decided on the dress. That had fallen to Donna, who was now her cousin by marriage. She waited anxiously as they laced up the back and smoothed out the skirt. “Can I look?”

“Yes!” They angled her towards the mirror and she gasped. The dress was not something she would have chosen for herself, but it was perfect. It was simple, elegant and queenly in a way more suited for her age, and the tiara that had been made specifically for this day complimented it perfectly.

A soft knock echoed on her door. “It’s time!” Jack’s voice echoed through the wood, and Rose swallowed.

“How can you be scared? You went head to head with Rassilon, but marrying James has you looking sick?!” Amy quickly fixed a curl as she whispered.

“You’ll be scared too next month.” Rose drew a breath to calm the flock of butterflies in her gut. Rory had officially proposed to Amy at the Autumn feast three days prior. “You’ll see.”

“Let’s go.” Donna pulled open the door and kissed her waiting husband softly.

“You look wonderful, Rosie.” Jack gasped as he broke free of his wife to look her over. Rose and Jack had already grown extremely close, as he had helped her the last few months. Rose had never had a real sibling before, but she was beginning to count Jack as close to a brother as one could be. That was why she asked him to give her away instead of officiate. Wilfred, her soon to be grandfather, would be performing the ceremony. He extended his elbow, and she took it. She was too nervous to speak as they made their way down the hall to the throne room. Amy and Donna slipped in first to take their seats with their families.

“He adores you, Rose.” Jack whispered as he kissed the side of her head softly. The doors opened again to the sound of a beautiful orchestra accompanied by a trumpet fanfare, and she gasped.

Sarah Jane and the castle staff had seriously outdone themselves. The curtains that usually covered the windows had been taken down and replaced by the sheerest of white and red silks. Those were billowing gracefully in the noonday breeze. The columns that supported the roof were wrapped in fresh vines with ruby red blossoms. The thrones were adorned with the same vines and silks. A white rug ran the length of the room, between the rows of chairs that had been moved in. More of the same hung from the two massive wooden chandeliers and draped the candelabras along the walls. It looked like something from a fairy tale.

Rose’s eyes were drawn to James as she moved forward, and the sight of him made her heart skip a beat. Gone were his usual pinstriped pants, coats and crisp linen shirts. He looked absolutely regal. She had never thought of him like that before, as he so normally looked like someone you would find sprawled on a bench with a book or perched on a step telling a story to eager listeners.

The man waiting for her at the front of the aisle looked absolutely perfect, steady with a blazing smile and glistening eyes. He wore a immaculately tailored three piece suit, all black and scarlet. The pants were the blackest of black, pressed with nary a wrinkle, ending perfectly at the top of his shining black boots. His shirt was the same rich dark, tucked under a vest that was solid black on one side, but adorned with intricate red silk patterns on the other. His tie, pulled into place for a change, matched the pattern, as did the lapel and cuff hems. As she drew closer, she saw that the jacket had more of the design, but in a shiny silk. He wore a silver buckle, two unicorns rearing over a globe, which was his father’s crest, and his hair had been back combed to show off his proud brow, jaw, and nose. James looked, Rose thought, exactly how one would expect a king to look on such a momentous occasion. Her hearts swelled as she realized the glistening in his eyes was barely held back tears of joy.

James swore that time stopped as Rose stepped into the throne room. He had wondered what his cousin had requested of the royal seamstresses, but Jack had assured him it would be utterly Rose. His friend was right. Rose was a vision. Despite the diamond and ruby tiara, so prim on her expertly curled and pinned hair, saying she was queen, she looked exactly as a woman her age should on her wedding day. Her dress was perfectly simple. It was all the same all pure white satin material from her exposed shoulders and collarbone to the floor. It clung to her curves, making her body look far longer and graceful than the intricate gowns she had worn previously. The beading and crystals that adorned the neckline and waist of her dress were the exact same red as his own suit and the flowers decorating the room. The red sleeves trailed down, billowing behind her like train as she walked. Her makeup was demure, highlighting her cheeks and eyes with a rosy glow. Her lips were painted the same deep scarlet, and they way they parted when their eyes met made his chest swell with pride and love.

“Please be seated.” His grandfather’s warm voice carried as the guests took their seats. “Friends, family, cherished citizens, we have gathered today to witness the union of two souls, Her Majesty the Queen,Rose Marion Tyler, and First Man of the Queen, Sir James Smith. If anyone present have valid reason that these two should not be joined today, speak now or keep your peace.”

James knew no one did, but that didn’t stop him from anxiously waiting to hear someone shout out. Silence was the only response and he saw Rose mirror his breath of relief.

“Very well, Prince Jack Harkness, as Rose’s eldest living blood relative, will you attest that her willingness to enter into this arrangement? Do you swear before the gods and goddesses that she is doing so of her own free will, and that duress or familial orders have not forced her into this marriage?” Wilf spoke formally, but his voice was barely contained happiness, and James could just see his kind eyes crinkling.

“I do so swear, and willingly offer her hand and heart to Sir James.” Jack lifted Rose’s hand from his arm, holding it out into the empty air between them. James wanted nothing more than to grab it, to feel even more strongly the ecstatic joy rolling from her heart.

“Madam Sarah Jane Smith, as James’ mother, will you attest that his willingness to enter into this arrangement? Do you swear before the gods and goddesses that he is doing so of his own free will, and that duress or familial orders have not forced his into this marriage?” James swallowed as his mother stepped from her place beside him to speak.

“I do so swear, and joyously permit my son to accept her hand and her heart.” James saw her blink back happy tears as he reached forward to take Rose’s fingers in his. He couldn’t look away from her as Jack and his mother bowed and curtsied before moving to their seats.

James led Rose up the steps to where his grandfather was waiting, in his long ceremonial robes before the thrones. Turning to face her, so their sides were to the audience, he raised their joined hands up for his grandfather to cover with his own wrinkled one. He wanted to say something, anything, to convey the unbridled happiness in his heart, but all he could do was smile. The radiant smile he got in return told him she knew exactly how he felt.

“Rose, James, do you both solemnly swear, in the sight of all present and the gods and goddesses above and below, that you will be faithful in both body and mind to one another? Do you swear to keep each other truly in the trials that life may bring, to love and cherish each other until you pass from this realm to the next?” His grandfather’s question made his heart skip as he squeezed her fingers softly, letting her love and adoration sing into his skin and mind.

“I do.” James let his voice carry, as he was supposed to, but he could have whispered it to her and meant that promise just as honestly.

“I do.” Rose’s voice was pure but thick with the emotions he could feel inside of her. It was perfect, and deep inside of him his soul rejoiced.

“By the power vested in me as Royal Historian, I do join your hands from this day until your last.” Wilf pulled his hand back to clasp it in his other. “You confirm this union with a kiss.”

Rose laughed out her euphoria as she accepted James’ lips. She hummed in contentment as he bent her back slightly, making the crowd erupt into applause and cheers. It was a tender kiss, as his own sigh of happiness broke across her lip. When they parted, she shivered as he brushed her happy tears from her cheeks. She reached up to touch his own cheek before turning to face Lord Octavian. He was standing nearby, smiling broadly, holding a velvet cushion and the future of the kingdom.

Clearing her throat, she nodded to him and he climbed the steps to kneel, holding the cushion and its contents high. “Sir James Smith. It is tradition for the officiate to present the husband and wife, with the wife now coming under her husband’s title. Tradition, however, will be broken today.” She sniffed softly as James nodded and dropped to one knee. “I cannot take your title, so I ask that you take mine.” Rose lifted the contents of the cushion between her fingers and held it up for all to see. “Do you, James Smith, solemnly swear to rule the Kingdom of Powell with humanity, compassion, and loyalty? Will you strive in every waking hour to ensure that the decisions you make are will and good of the people?”

Rose could feel and hear the sharp intake of breath as the people waited for James’ answer. She reflexively held her own as well. “I do so solemnly swear.”

At his words she lowered the greatest gift and honor she could offer onto his head, her father’s crown. “Then rise, and be known as this day forward as His Royal Majesty, King James Smith.” She lowered her hands as he stood, breathing out a sigh as he smiled at her in wonder and pulled her to his chest.

“I am so proud to present to you all, King James Smith-Tyler and Queen Rose Smith Tyler.” Wilf’s proclamation was wonderful, but what he added so softly, just for them, made Rose almost melt. “My grandchildren, and I couldn’t be prouder of you both.”

“We love you too, Grandad.” It felt so perfect for her to say those words. Finally, she had a family who loved her. “Let the feast begin!” Rose called out to the pandemonium echoing in the hall.

It didn’t take long for the doors leading to the banquet hall at the end of the throne room to be thrown open. The chairs were quickly moved out of the way as tables were brought in to frame the empty space meant for dancing.

Wine and mead flowed easily, as Rose lost herself in the excitement of the day. She had ordered that anyone who wanted to attend the feast could, and she had kept true to that. Soon, the fancy dresses and elegant music was interspersed with common dresses and village bards. Nobody seemed to mind, though. While she had grown accustomed to the life of a queen, this was who she was. This, twirling her skirts as a group of children in market day clothes skipped a circle around her singing, was what she had grown up as, who she would always be.

James had long since loosened his tie, somewhere after his first dance with his bride and sometime before Amy and Donna had began telling embarrassing stories about him to Martha. Martha seemed to be glued to Mickey’s side, he had noticed, and he wondered if there would be another wedding to attend after Amy and Rory’s.

“Look at her, eh.” Wilf’s voice drew James’ gaze to where Rose was up at the thrones. She wasn’t seated in one though. In fact, hers was currently being occupied by by a girl no older than five. Rose was removing her crown, placing it on the girl’s head. He couldn’t hear what she was saying, but she executed a perfect curtsy that made the girl giggle. A group of children, titled and common, at the bottom of the stairs cheered and bowed or curtsied. The girl on the throne blushed, quickly offered the tiara back, and kissed Rose’s cheek before scurrying away.

“Now you see why I love her.” James made his way across the room to meet his wife as she descended. It was already past sunset, and there was one Smith family tradition to be kept. He wasn’t even sure Rose knew about it. Sure enough his mother and Jack were opening a small chest that had been placed on bottom step.

“What are they doing?” Rose's smile was gentle as she came easily into his arms.

“You’ll see.” He kissed her forehead softly, as Jack called the room to attention.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our bellies are full and our hearts are light.” James tucked Rose under one arm as the crowd called out agreement. “The sun set two hours ago, and that means the time has come for our king and queen to bow out for the evening. In keeping with what I’m told is a Smith family tradition tonight, until the end of the week, Queen Rose and King James will set aside their crowns and be only bride and groom.” He gestured them forward.

“Take off your tiara and put it in the chest.” James whispered as he led Rose forward. He could feel her confusion, but there’d be plenty of time to explain later. He reached up to remove his own crown, which wasn’t has heavy as he expected when it had first been placed on his head, and placed it into the chest. Instead of a velvet cushion, the bottom was lined with a variety of leaves and flowers: basil for good wishes, forget me nots for true love, peony for a happy marriage, sweat pea for pleasure, violets for faithfulness, and geranium for fertility. He took Rose’s hand as she did the same.

“Let us bid them goodnight and continue with the celebrations.” Jack raised a glass as James swept Rose up into his arms. This elicited another round of cheers, and made Rose squeak in surprise. Without waiting for the cheers to die down, James carried her into the hall.

“What was that?” Rose looped her arms around her husband’s neck. She liked that word, husband. “With the chest?” She was a bit confused.

“In my family, on a wedding night until then end of the first week, we set aside something that symbolizes us with herbs and flowers.” He was already walking towards their room, the hallways perfectly empty. “Each one is a blessing on our marriage, and by letting them rest with those items, the blessings will carry to our marriage.”

“Like a spell?” Rose was still learning about magic, how it worked, and even how to make some potions that didn’t require magical energy to fuel them.

“More like a wish.” His chuckle was sweet, and she could see the freckles on his cheeks and nose stand out as he looked down at her. “For love, a happy marriage, fertility, snd pleasure.” The last word was uttered as he reached their door. It came out low and enticing. Warmth pooled low in her belly at his tone. The tipsy feeling from the wine made her head spin as she realized what was coming next.

“Pleasure, mmm, well I think we have the pleasure part down just fine.” Despite the fact that she already had every inch of his body intimately memorized, she was suddenly nervous as he opened the door to their room.

Sometime during the feast, it had been decorated. The usual cream and pink sheets were replaced with rich red ones. The blankets had been folded back, revealing the foot wide white satin cloth over the center of the bed. Donna had told her yesterday it was called a virginal cloth, and it would be checked in the morning as proof their marriage was consummated. When she had learned that, she understood why James had been so adamant about waiting until their wedding night to fully experience each other. There was plenty of food and drink set out, mostly fresh fruits and bread, so that they could remain undisturbed until noon the next day, when they would leave for winter palace. The fuel in the lanterns had been replaced with an intoxicating spiced oil that made the air smell warm and heavy, and the aroma tugged at her mind with a seductive pull.

Rose bit her lip as James lowered her slowly to the floor, his eyes never leaving her face. “Wife.” His smile was slow and brilliant as he cupped her cheek. “I love the way that sounds.”

“Husband.” Rose turned her head to plant a kiss on his palm. “Mmm that does sound wonderful.” She let her hands trail up his coat sleeves to his neck. “Kiss me.” She wasn’t sure why she expected it to be frantic and possessive, but it wasn’t. His lips captured hers in a firm but gentle embrace. She curled her fingers against the junction of his jaw and neck as his tongue traced her lower lip, seeking entrance. She granted it, sighing as the taste of the white wine he favored over her preferred red tantalized her senses.

James’ fingers trailed along her bare shoulders, igniting a slow, simmering heat under her skin. She could tell he was taking this slowly, letting her arousal blossom, but Rose wasn’t nervous any longer. This was James, and the notion that she had been so anxious before seemed silly. Rose pulled back from his arms to turn and offer the laces of her dress to him. She sighed as his lips ghosted along the back of her neck and shoulder as his fingers began slowly untying the knots. “I love this perfume.” He whispered, his words sending pleasant shivers down her spine. “What is it? Lilac?” His nose trailed up her neck as he drew a deep inhale. “Mmmm, and cherry blossom.”

“Jack picked it out.” Rose wondered if her voice sounded as breathless to him as it did to her. “I’m not sure.” She gasped as her bodice and sleeves began to slide down her skin, and his fingers began dancing down her back. She stepped out of the dress, turning to watch as his eyes trailed down her bare body to the elegant heels that were laced up to her knees. “Let me.” She stepped around the puddle of satin on the floor to reach up and push his coat down his arms. The heat in her core blazed brighter as he let it drop to the floor.

Grabbing his tie, she pulled the knot completely loose and tossed it aside. Her fingers eagerly found the buttons of his vest, pulling them free one at a time leaving it open as she undid the ones on his shirt as well. Rose pushed to sleek material away from his chest, so that she could press her lips over his heart, smiling at the red mark her makeup left there. Then she worked his buckle free, humming as he quickly toed off his boots. His skin smelled amazing, a musky cologne she had never known him to wear was teasing her from the sparse hairs that covered his chest. She inhaled the fragrance, stroking his firm abdomen as she untied the laces at the top of his pants and pushed them down. Smiling against his skin, she followed them down, placing gentle, teasing kisses beside his navel, over his hip bone, and finally in the rich brown hairs that concealed the base of his very prominent length.

“No, love.” James’ fingers curled under her chin, pulling her back up. “Not this time.” Before Rose could insist, because she loved how taking him in her mouth made her feel so heated and powerful, he had scooped her up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and his hard length was trapped between them, pressing through her folds as he strode confidently to the bed. He laid her down, immediately climbing over her to trail his tongue along her clavicle and down to her right breast. “I love how soft your skin is now.” His voice was husky, and made her yearn to feel his tongue low in her own curls. “Like the sweet cream that the cooks put on those strawberries you do so adore.”

“Was it not soft bef-“ Rose’s teasing question was cut off with a cry as he caught the dusky peak of her nipple between his teeth and pulled slightly. He answered only with a low, dark chuckle and switched sides. “Why are you teasing me so much?” She bucked under him with another cry as he repeated his movements, his fingers digging into her hips with a pleasant firmness.

“Because you need to be.” James sentence was muffled as he licked and nipped his way down her body, making her tremble and rub her thighs together in anticipation of him reaching his destination. “More receptive of my touch than any other time.” His teeth pulled delicately at the skin over her hip bones, sending shocks of fierce desire straight to her core. “You need to be, open.” At the word, his hands pulled her legs apart, kneading the muscles there possessively. “Flooded with desire.” His breath cooled the burning wetness she could feel soaking her curls. His voice waved over her mind, lulling her like a trance to arch up into his touch. “So that the pleasure, mmm” Rose flexed in response to his tongue trailing between her folds to the eagerly waiting bud at the apex. “Drowns out the discomfort. Now, my Rosebud, let me taste you.”

Rose wasn’t about to say no, as his mouth closed over her most sensitive spot. As always, he was a god when it came to laving pleasure onto her. His fingers danced at her entrance, swirling, curling, pressing in just enough to reduce her to an incoherent babble of his name and needy moans. This was familiar, as she had grown accustomed to receiving his touch almost nightly and a few times hidden away in some isolated corridor of the castle. Yet, some part of her desire clouded mind realized he was not trying to drive her to release. Each glorious suck, lick, rub, and brush was aimed to lull her tantalizingly slow to the edge. She was just there, panting, clutching the sheets, practically begging when he pulled away. “James.” She forced her desire leadened eyes open to meet his as he moved over her.

“Shhhh.” James could tell she was ready. Never had she been so wet and hot under his touch. He was glad the castle had the aphrodisiac oils in stock, and thankful they had fulfilled his request to put it in the lamps and soak the firewood and sheets with it. He needed this to be as painless as possible for her, because he wasn’t sure he could do it if it wasn’t. Rose’s eyes were so dark with need that those honey colored irises were almost obscured. Her entire body was flushed an enchanting pink, and he marveled at the way it colored her breasts. Closing his own eyes, he captured her panting lips with his own, letting his tongue curl along hers. He had learned early on that tasting herself on his tongue drove Rose wild, and he eagerly let the sweet nectar of her center coat her lips and mouth.

Groaning as he took himself in hand, he controlled the urge to sink immediately into her. He angled slowly, letting her feel the very tip press in, the pleasure at the sensation for himself was doubled as hers pooled into his mind. He gave two slow, gentle strokes to spread her waiting wetness completely. Using his other hand to lift her thigh high on his waist, he pushed forward as his groan of pleasure mixed with her muffled cry. James wanted to stop, to find a way to ease the sudden stab of pain that shot out of her, but he knew better. Rose bucked under him, her nails biting into her back as he pulled back slightly before sinking farther into her velvet heat.

James’ eyes fluttered open as Rose broke the kiss, her head falling back as she whimpered and twitched under him. He wanted to say something, but the knowledge that they were finally one tightened his throat. He pulled back back again, grabbing her hips to angle her up so she could take him deeper and easier. This time the pain radiating from her was mixing with a new type of pleasure.

“Don’t stop.” Her voice cracked as her legs wrapped around his waist. “By the stars, James, don’t stop.”

“I’m sorry it hurt.” Finally the words came out, but Rose seemed oblivious. Her lip was caught between her teeth, and the way she looked made his arousal flex inside of her. Lowering his own lips to her right breast, he lost himself in the rhythm of their bodies. This was perfect, better than he had fantasized. She was so tight, so perfectly formed to take him. He had had lovers before her, but none had felt so utterly divine. He needed to feel her come undone around him. He slid his hand between them, finding the sensitive bud there and pressing it with his thumb. He was rewarded with her cry of ecstasy, and moaned into her breast as she clenched around him.

“Read my thoughts.” Rose’s request nearly made him reach his own completion then and there. Dropping his barriers, which were already threatening to break, he was overwhelmed by the sheer euphoria that was bathing her mind. It engulfed him, multiplying his own a thousandfold. The world around him disappeared as he drowned in Rose.

He could feel each touch he lavished on her just as he felt hers on his own skin. He felt the fierce burn of her climax rising higher, and he drove her towards it with the singleminded need to feel her explode. Rose’s wordless cry into his neck was nothing compared to the sudden bursting lights that filled her mind. Her love for him was intensified, and the strength of it left him stunned. “I love you.” James wasn’t even sure she heard him, as she dropped her hands to the sheets to pull at them as her legs clenched around his hips.

Opening his eyes, James took in her now disheveled hair, eyes scrunched shut, lips wide and glistening as she reveled in her release, and the way her breasts heaved as she gasped for breath. The coiled tension low in his belly snapped, and he clutched at her sides, lowering himself so he could feel her entire body against his, as his pulse roared in his ears and he emptied his own completion inside of her. Never in his life had he felt so utterly satisfied and at peace.

“I love.” Rose panted as she managed to force her eyes open to take in James’ sweat soaked and flushed face. “You too.” His hair was a mess from where she had fisted her fingers in it. It stuck up at odd angles or was pasted to his forehead. She flinched as he slid out of her, whimpering at the loss of feeling full and stretched around him. It had hurt at first, but then so wonderful she had forgotten the pain as soon as it was gone. She felt giddy, exhausted and spent, but happier and pleased than she had ever felt. Humming her contentment, she lifted a shanking hand to touch one of the five marks her teeth had left on his neck and shoulders. She knew she probably had the same, if not more, scattered across her own skin.

“Hmmmm.” Rose felt the muscles in her thighs and core wince and throb as she lowered her legs. Now that the waves of pleasantness were subsiding, she could feel the soreness of their passion.

“You’re in pain.” She watched as he pushed himself up onto his forearms, pressing a kiss to her brow. “You can’t hide it.” His blissful smile turned into a furrowed brow pout.

“Just sore, but I love the way it aches.” Mentally shoving the aching away she bent her leg to run her calf along his. “You’re so adorable when you pout.” Rose lifted her head to catch his lower lip in her teeth. She could taste her perfumed oils on it, and she sighed happily. “Come here.” She nudged him with her knee so he would sprawl onto the sheets next to her and rolled so her hands rested on his still heaving chest. “It was wonderful for me. I know you felt it.”

“Nearly drowned in it.” His lips pulled up in that smug smirk he always wore after he left her panting. It was her second favorite smile. The first was the one who wore every morning when he woke her up. “Mmm, these look so lovely.” Rose shivered as his fingers brushed along her neck. So she had been right thinking he had left marks. Until now they had been careful to not leave any. His touch and the way his eyes trailed over her body made her previously sated arousal begin to simmer again. “I’ve created a monster.” James’ laugh was contagious, and she found herself giggling as he gently pushed her off of him so he could roll out of the bed.

James tapped her thigh playfully as he tugged the white cloth that had bundled under then, and Rose lifted her hips for him to pull it off the bed. He winked at her with a roguish smile as he bunched it into a ball and tossed it into a corner. She watched, enjoying the view of his gorgeous rear and back, as he poured her favorite wine into a goblet and popped a strawberry into his mouth. Rose winced as she sat up, leaning against the pillows. “Wait here, love.” He handed her the wine and disappeared into the ensuite. When he returned he was carrying a damp cloth, and he climbed onto the bed again.

Rose nearly choked on the wine as she sipped, because he had pushed her legs open just a bit and pressed the cold wet cloth against her folds. It made her shiver at first, but soon the chilly sensation felt pleasant as it eased the hot, swollen ache she had felt forming. “Mmmm thank you.”

“See, I knew it was more than you let on.” James flopped down on his side, his hand resting on her bare thigh as he let out a contented sigh and kissed her hip. Rose returned his silly smile and let her fingers stroke his hair as she slowly finished her wine.

This moment, this feeling was something she had never imagined she would ever have. Rose was home, with a man she worshipped and adored, who felt exactly the same in return. She had a family, somewhere in the castle, a mother, an aunt, two cousins, and a grandfather who she loved and admired. If someone had told her last year that this is what would happen, she’d have laughed at them and told them to lay off the bottle. Yet, here she was, living out her own fairy tale. “I love you, Husband.”

“I love you too, Wife.” James eyes were soft as he pulled her hand to his lips. “From now until the ever after.” Rose set her goblet aside and lowered herself into his waiting arms.

~Fin~

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Rose’s dress](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8a/e2/b9/8ae2b914ee8742c006fd210bc82079e0.jpg)
> 
> [Rose’s tiara](https://i.pinimg.com/736x/c7/92/da/c792da5bcf842a134c419509b54af80e--tiaras-and-crowns-royal-crowns.jpg)
> 
> [James’ Outfit ](https://i.pinimg.com/originals/52/60/be/5260be14a3338e211a7e01aeacfb789d.jpg)


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